Eternity In Green
by Latsin
Summary: The tale of Underworld: Evolution shines under a different light as Amelia goes along for the journey, saved by Michael and Selene. Her presence unearths secrets of the dramatic past and present of the Vampire society. T for blood and maybe gore.
1. Out Of The Norm

**Thanks to Celtic Aurora for betaing the chapter and for putting up with me and my constant ranting :D**

**AN:** This is the first part of a series about Amelia the Elder. The choice on her eye color was based on a careful watching of the second movie, in which I saw that her eyes do not turn the vampiric ice blue, but a toxic green.

This story takes place when the second movie was supposed to happen, which is the year 2003 A.D.

PROLOGUE: 1192 A.D

She sits patiently, waiting for the two men to cross the door to the fortress as she has already allowed. Viktor is the first to reach her, having gone through the winding halls already, and greets her with a hug. She points to one of the six empty seats around the throne, which would normally be occupied by her council. Honoring an allegiance that goes back for many generations, he takes a seat to her right as she goes to sit on her throne.

The other man is not offered a seat. He has less presence, even though his appearance is far more intriguing. Red hair is an unusual trait this far south from the Great Islands, but only slightly more peculiar than the name he offers as means of introduction. Corvinus, after all, no longer inspires the same feeling of reverence as it did centuries before, when the head of the house was Astos and not Alexander Corvinus.

Amelia stoically endures the formalities, letting out a tiny, quiet sigh of relief when the matter at hand is finally addressed. She, having inherited the kingdom only a year ago, doesn't yet understand the value of such beaurocratic behavior. She listens patiently as both men, in a new-formed allegiance, retell Markus Corvinus' saving of Lord Viktor from the cold clutches of death. She scoffs and assumes they are being presumptuous when bragging about enhanced strength, and interrupts to inform them of her disbelief, but accepts defeat when Viktor's hitherto weak fist collides with, and shatters, a thick wooden beam.

After a long discussion that revolves around the present situation, and after only a moment's hesitation and a brief reminder of the cause of her father's death, she finally nods her consent, and Markus approaches her, baring pointed fangs.

She regrets the decision once the burning begins. It's like liquid fire rushing through her veins. Her vision sways, and she falls unceremoniously to the floor. For moments, she sees her surroundings in colors she never knew existed. However, her eyelids cover her toxic green irises too quickly, and she continues to writhe on the hard stone floor. She rolls over and curls in on her stomach, which feels as though it's being ripped from her body. The heels of her hands are pressed against her closed eyes, in an attempt to diminish the throbbing in them.

From numb lips, the princess gasps, her chest heaving, and finally manages to glance up at the two men, with eyes that are now hazel, now pure green. She seeks guidance in the one who has stood by her side this whole time, and clenches her teeth to ward off the pain.

"You'll live, princess," Viktor says, and those words bring him huge relief, but the only thing she sees right now are his pale blue eyes instead of the brown ones she knows him to have. Her gaze does not waver from his, even as the edges of her vision turn dark and she finally slips into blessed unconsciousness.

**1. OUT OF THE NORM**

She didn't want to go underground. Amelia scowled, letting her shoe hang from her toe. She hated to be drained of her blood, to literally feel as she died, and to wake up as if she hadn't gotten a moment's rest. What she hated the most, though, were the long hours she had to spend drinking to restore her body, which would be weak and wrinkled when she got the blood memory. She hated to have to spend that first while awake sorting out the details of the last century, and drowning herself in blood, emptying glass after glass, before Viktor would finally deign to talk to her and explain the memories he had passed on to her.

She sighed. This time, she had had to force herself into the train and resist the urge to go back to her coven. The one she owned, and not Viktor; the only place his words had no authority unless she was there to enforce them, and where his dark hand could not reach. She shuddered at the thought of waking up in a cold crypt, with Viktor's children keeping a tight watch over her until she would again leave for America.

Amelia got up from her seat next to the window as the train stopped, checking her reflection in the mirror for the last time. She smiled, pleased at the way the soft, pale blue strapless dress hugged her body, and adjusted the golden choker on her neck and matching bracelet on her thin wrist. She returned to her chair and picked up the glass of blood before her, taking a gulp of the rich liquid before putting it back down on the small table. She scowled bitterly, remembering that would probably be the last drink she took in two centuries, and picked it back up to take one last gulp before answering the door. It was a Death Dealer, to tell her they'd finally arrived at the station. Amelia smiled and walked out of her wagon, leaving him to close the door. She lifted her head up higher, steeled herself, and elegantly crossed the threshold into the council's wagon.

The preparations for the trip had taken about a month, and, while it was nice to have such effort pay off so nicely, she was by far more glad to have finally arrived. The trip had taken two long days, first to fly from America in a modified private airplane, and then to stop in the outside of Hungary to take the train, as Amelia had wanted. And finally, they could say they were home.

The twelve council members got up after her, and headed into the last wagon, with Amelia at the lead and a Death Dealer at the end of the procession. The pale blue dress trailed behind the Elder as she walked and softly ran a hand along a curtain.

It was then that the first howl was heard. She froze in her steps and cast her eyes upwards, trying to pinpoint the source of the blood-curdling noise. Just as she realized it was coming closer, and the last Death Dealer held up his rifle, something landed hard on the steel top of the train. She counted the next thuds and came to a total of nine. Amelia's breathing quickened, and she glanced back wildly, catching sight of two of the three Death Dealers and thinking just now that bringing only them with her on the train had been foolish. She calmed down, however, after remembering the escort form Ördögház, which had cleared them to come out of the convoy. She took a deep breath and reasoned that, if the attackers were on top of the train, it was only a matter of seconds before their guards opened fire.

They didn't.

Amelia strained her hears to hear anything from that direction only to pick up the ugly sound of tires screeching away.

"Traitors," she hissed through her teeth and let her fangs elongate and her eyes turn green in rage as the first window broke. A fully transformed lycan entered through the hole, howling at the council members, who, never having been trained to fight, cowered as the Death Dealer nearest to them stepped forward. The three first shots killed the threatening beast, but by now the narrow room was swarming with them, and another one swiftly avenged its comrade with a swing of its claws.

The other two Death Dealers reacted in no time and now gunfire rang in her ears as she, too, reached to grab hold of a dark leathery neck and squeezed. She let the carcass fall and looked around again. There was no escape route she could see, and Amelia realized, perhaps too late, that the ambush had been so cleverly planned, there was no way to get the council out of the train. She hadn't been under an attack of this magnitude for a few decades, and wasn't exactly sure she could take on the Lycans, already having had some of her blood drained prior to the Awakening.

She quickly snapped the neck of the Lycan in her hands, and turned around to find another one looming threateningly over her. However, she was too slow to avoid the clawed hand that landed on her cheek, leaving three bleeding scratch marks, which marred her pale complexion. Letting out her breath at the exact moment, she managed to add enough strength to her fist to cave in the chest of her attacker, and proudly stood over the body, pressing the back of her hand to her slightly bleeding face.

Amelia sidestepped a body, refusing to look down and recognize the deceased Vampire, and dodged the snapping jaws of the next Lycan. Her intricate hairdo was coming undone, and strands of raven hair fell on her face. She pulled backwards after taking hold of the beast's nape and clutching hard until a whine escaped the snout before the Lycan broke her hold and stepped back. She ran a hand through her tresses, but stumbled backwards as a claw tore her side open and had her crying out, clutching at the wounds, and leaning against the red velvet curtain in order to stay upright. Her blood seeped through her fingers and stained the soft fabric a darker red.

She breathed heavily, trying to get some air into her desperate lungs, and snapped her hand away from her side with a groan. Pushing herself off the wall, she let her fangs grow even more and lunged forward towards the closest werewolf, however, her vision swayed because of the blood loss, and so she failed to dodge the snapping jaws. The pain on her shoulder reminded her of reality, and she gasped and with no regards for the consequences pushed the monster away, its fangs dragging along her skin and widening the puncture wounds into fifteen-centimeter gashes. She hissed and jerked the Lycan's shoulder until she heard a pop, and the Lycan howled.

She fell to her knees next to the still living wolf and looked around herself. The only remaining Death Dealer stepped up to protect the lightheaded Elder and readied his handgun with shaking hands as he realized they were the only two Vampires left alive on the train. He managed to shoot the Lycan that had bitten her, but soon enough the inevitable happened. Amelia recoiled from the cut-open body when it was dropped before her and shakily stood, fighting off another wave of dizziness. She was lifted off her feet by the neck and tossed to the carpeted floor like a rag doll.

There, among the bloody mess of the battle, she laid, trembling, feeling salty tears sting her cheeks. She took shaky breaths and fisted her hands, her crying intensifying, when a hooded man approached. One of the two remaining Lycans forcefully tilted her head to the side, exposing her throat, and Amelia could only gasp in fear as she felt a slight prick in her neck. She struggled to break free of their hold, but her weak try only had the Lycan press down on her wounded shoulder. She tensed up and clenched her teeth with a groan, but at the same time felt the slight pull in her eyes, which indicated they had turned back to their usual hazel color. She let out a choked sob; her body had given up on her. Her limbs felt heavy and her hands cold. Everything hurt, and under the pressure of the werewolf's paw, she could feel the blood bubbling out of the wound and trickling down her arm and back.

She continued to struggle, but her weak fists could do nothing against a fully transformed Lycan, and her vision narrowed around the edges until she saw no more than black, beckoning to her with the promise of painless rest. She gave in.

* * *

Selene looked at the screen, stuffing a bunch of glow-sticks into a bag.

01h 30m 12s, it read. Michael confirmed this, taking a step closer to her.

"There's only about an hour until daylight," he said as Selene reached for some throwing disks. They, too, went carelessly into the bag. "Can we make it back to the mansion before sunrise?"

She looked at him with her brown eyes. "Just."

Michael reached for the bag, "Okay, let's get what we need and go."

"No," she said plainly but firm, pulling the bag out of his reach, "I'm going alone."

She reached inside a steel cabinet for its contents. Michael stared at her, but averted his gaze as she looked up. With an annoyed sigh, she picked up the bag and laid it down on a nearby table, opening another cabinet.

"If I can plead my case," she explained, throwing various things into the bag, "there's a chance you'll be granted sanctuary. Right now you'll be killed on sight," her gaze softened as she once again looked at Michael before opening a glass door, "and I'm not prepared to risk it."

"So what am I supposed to do?" Michael complained quickly, "Sit down and wait for you?" she didn't reply, so he took her silence as an affirmative and continued, "No, Kraven might still have his men with him, you're not going alone."

He looked at her leather-clad back and short hair, annoyed at the fact that she refused to even look at him. She, on the other hand, kept stuffing the bag and silently regretted Michael's involvement in the war of the Underworld; his talking about Kraven as a force to be contended with told her just how deep in he was.

"You're not as strong as you might think," she told him, turning slowly around.

"What?"

"Michael, you're unique," she replied, meeting his gaze, "There's never been a Hybrid before. However ambivalent you may feel about it the truth is," she glared at him as he rolled his eyes dismissively, "your powers could be limitless."

She turned around again to grab a blood package, and handed it to him, pleading with her intense gaze, "You depend on blood." Sensing his reluctance, she added sternly, "You need to feed. Without it, you'll be growing weaker by the second, use the time for that.

He grudgingly took the blood and muttered, "Jesus Christ."

She smiled lightly, but her smirk was replaced with a frown when he started again,

"What if I don't? What if I can't?"

"Normal food could be lethal," she said; it was for her, but not for the Lycans, so she was not sure. She took a different approach then, remembering he was a doctor, "If you don't anticipate your cravings, you will attack humans. And believe me," she continued with a tone of sadness, "you don't want that on your conscience."

He looked crestfallen, and she took a step closer and added, "There really is no going back," she looked down, "I'm sorry."

"Look," he replied putting a hand on her back, "I understand what you did. I'm grateful; you saved my life," she looked back up at him. "I wasn't ready to die. I don't know," he hesitated looking back down at the blood in his other hand, "everything's changed."

She nodded, accepting his answer, and looked apprehensively first at the timer on the screen behind him, then at the still figure lying on the steel table of the next room, and finally, to Michael. He followed her eyes and reassured her with a hand on her elbow,

"Look, go. I'll be here. Just make sure you come back."

She nodded and quickly turned and left for the door. Michael sat down on a cold steel chair for a while, moving the blood package uncertainly from one hand to the other to the table and back to his hand again, until, with a sigh, he let it drop on the table and got up, heading for the other room.

Cold; the safehouse was very cold. It was to be expected, however, as the place had been built for practicality and not comfort. He wasn't freezing, either, as he could not feel the chill, but his human side was uncomfortable. Instinct told him the place was many degrees too cold. Thin concrete walls separated the few rooms from one another, and the space was just enough for the essentials: One bathroom, one room with two bunks, a small closet and, of course, an armory. Other than that, there was only the room with surgical tables, which was where Michael was headed.

He opened the cold steel door wider and stared at the figure in the bloody dress. He repressed the urge to press two fingers to her cold neck; Selene had already explained she would wake whenever she had restored enough blood, and that was the reason there were plastic tubes connected to her back, feeding her body from six blood bags which hung next to her.

They had rescued her from among a huge mess of corpses, pale even for a Vampire, not breathing and, as Michael had ascertained soon after, with no pulse. He sighed again. He didn't believe the woman would just revive and get up after a few hours of rest, but Selene seemed to have faith in it, and so he had carried her from the train station to the safehouse, as Selene had been occupied with defending them from the sudden bullets, which had been fired from far away. Little did they know the attack didn't come from the Lycans, but the humans under the service of Alexander Corvinus.

Michael rubbed his forehead and left, rummaging inside the closet before changing his coat for a warmer one and again catching sight of the blood package Selene had ordered him to drink. Unwilling to make a decision on the subject of his foods, he headed for the door.

He stopped in his tracks as he heard the gasp from the next room. Returning to it, he looked inside just in time to see Amelia roll over and reach around her back to pull at one of the tubes on her back. Michael froze, sure she hadn't heard him, and not knowing how to react. The woman before him was, according to Selene, one of the three Elders, of which he'd helped to kill one just the night before.

Amelia turned and looked at him, unfazed by his presence, and waited for him to move. Michael blinked and dropped awkwardly down to a knee.

"My Lady…"

"Rise," she said with a roll of the eyes, and then took a deep breath and ripped another tube out of her flesh, not having the patience to remove them the normal way, "You reek of Lycan," she commented, giving Michael a sideways glance as she twisted to check the skin on her side.

Michael got up and looked at her in slight worry, grimacing at the violence with which she tugged at the plastic. He tilted his head and narrowed his eyes in confusion. Hadn't Selene given her a blood memory? Did she not know who he was? Wasn't it to be expected that he smell like a Lycan when he was half?

She sighed, "I guess a shower is out of the question here, is it not?" she asked, scrunching up her nose as his scent once again hit her, and deciding to stop breathing so often, "For a war weapon, you're quiet," she told Michael, reaching for an unfinished blood package on the table to drink from the plastic bag.

"War weapon?" he chorused, making a note to actually take a shower when he could. So she did know of him.

"Well yes," she said, "why else do you think Lucian wanted to merge the bloodlines so badly? A hybrid could have been the means to stop the war, or to win it. And he would have benefited from whichever outcome."

She turned around and got up, keeping a hand on the table in case she lost her balance.

"How much longer until dawn?" she asked. Michael returned to the screen to check it, and she called, "And where's Selene?"

"A little over an hour," he replied, and then returned to the room. "She should be back in a while," he said as Amelia again reached for a tube.

"If I may?" he said, gesturing to her back, not wanting to see her rip the rest of the lines like she had the first few. At her nod, he walked closer, and removed the remaining three tubes gently. He looked away as she reached for another blood bag and drank in long gulps, her free hand instinctively reaching up to her wounded shoulder.

"I guess I don't have to tell you, but the Vampire virus demands that you drink blood," she commented between gulps. He looked back at the blood bag on the table in the other room, grimaced slightly and shook his head.

She sighed, foreseeing how hard it would be for him to finally get used to that fact.

"At least go and eat. A dead hybrid is no use," she rolled her eyes at him, but smiled when he looked at her concernedly, "I'm fine," she said, reassuring the doctor in him.

He nodded and left without another word. Amelia sighed when the door to the safehouse closed.

"Finally alone," she said to herself and walked to the closet, choosing out an attire from among the Death Dealer clothing. After she had picked out the clothes, she tossed them onto one of the bunks and set out to look for a first aid kit. She walked slowly, still weak from the attack and needing blood, but ignored the frailty and pressed on, wanting to clean her wounds and see how they had healed.

When she finally found the small case, she removed the golden choker from her pale neck and set it aside, reaching for the alcohol and gauze. She tended to her wounds, mostly concerning herself with the bite, which had not healed like the gashes. Although it looked like she had been clawed on the shoulder, she was constantly reminded that the injury was a bite, for it burned and stung, making the skin around the gashes very tender. This was because of the dueling viruses in her veins; whereas the Vampire virus tried to repair the damage, its Lycan counterpart concerned itself with destroying the blood cells and in turn the tissue around them. Amelia paid this no heed, knowing she had until the full moon to either find a solution or be killed by the Lycan viral infection, and bandaged the wounds tightly. After that, she discarded the tattered dress and put on trademark black Death Dealer clothes. She stood up from the bed and went to turn on the radio in the other room, then looking for the compartment with the blood supplies. Vampires had an agreement with both Hungary and New York's police forces, so they would easily find out about threats either from the Lycans or to their cover.

"We have a fugitive," the voice crackled from the radio in Hungarian, "We have Michael Corvin, send backup to Dragon's bar…"

Amelia didn't stay much longer than that. With a fleeting glance at the screen again, and letting out a quiet string of curses, she grabbed five blood packages, as many as she could hold in her hands, and left the safehouse, heading quickly in the direction of the mangy bar.

Fifteen minutes. That had been the total of the time he'd been out there, and he had managed to attract the attention of the local police. It was nearly unbelievable and yet, with the dawn creeping threateningly closer, Amelia was looking for a car to get to the tavern quicker than the Hybrid could get himself killed.


	2. Voices Screaming A Name

AN: Thanks again to my beta, Celtic Aurora, for corrections and advices, and for putting up with my constant procrastination :P

Thanks to those who reviewed, reviews get me in good mood :D

2. VOICES SCREAMING A NAME

The sound of the flapping leathery wings was only the first indication. After that came the animals, birds that flew away from the presence in a cacophony that made it hard to distinguish the first sound from the fleeing creatures.

Selene and Michael stopped as he landed, and folded grayish wings behind his back.

"Markus…" Selene stated, recognizing the deformed factions under slimy, amphibian-like skin. Michael took a hesitant step backwards.

"I know what you've done, Selene," he told her, approaching threateningly.

"Viktor deserved his fate and Kraven was no better," she justified, taking a step back herself for each the winged hybrid took forward.

"Kraven has already reaped the rewards of his own misdeeds," He looked every bit the Elder in hibernation, with gray, thin skin tight over bone, even though he was awake and stronger than ever, "and Viktor… he deserved his fate many times over," he spat. "A terrible business, the slaying of your family," he grinned as she felt behind herself and found a rock wall, impeding her escape. "Yet so much effort was spent in concealing this matter from me," he continued mockingly as Michael protectively let his fingernails grow into claws, "What do you suppose Viktor had to hide?"

Selene breathed in and stopped Michael with a raised hand, unsure of the Elder's intentions.

"Or perhaps it is you, Selene," Markus started calmly again, letting the volume of his voice rise slightly with every word, "as the last of your wretched family, who has something to hide."

He lunged for her with his wings extended, which made him seem bigger and more threatening, and a few rocks slid off the small cliff wall as Selene's back collided with it. Her gun slid off her fingers as she gasped in surprise but just as Markus was about to sink his jagged, irregular teeth on her neck, he staggered back. Milliseconds later, the sound of the shot echoed off into the night, followed by many others.

Selene sighed in relief as Markus was forced to step back, and called out to Michael, who was holding the gun,

"Go!"

Both ran away from Markus, using their supernatural speed to put more distance between them. When they got to the highway, they kept running alongside it for a while, until an old truck finally approached. The person driving it was hidden behind a grimy windshield, which only added to Michael and Selene's astonishment as the vehicle slowed down to a halt without their asking to, just as Michael was about to jump in front of it to stop it.

Selene pulled the driver door open and smiled, breathing heavily.

"Mind if I drive?" she asked Amelia, who shook her head and changed to the other seat as Michael climbed in the back.

"Be my guest," was the reply as Selene closed the door and stepped on the gas pedal, not even bothering with the seat belt, "How long to we have?" she asked, changing gears and looking apprehensively at the ever-lighter sky.

"Not long," Amelia replied, looking at the watch on the dashboard, "ten minutes at the most." She gave a half-hearted glare at Michael. "You were all over the news," she commented, looking at the partially transformed Hybrid, but the matter stayed at that, for she turned around again not waiting for a reply, more concerned with the lightening sky. Vampires could feel the sun long before it was seen, but still she and Selene were out in the open with nowhere to hide. Shaking her head, she let out a quiet sigh and tried to map out the location of the next safehouse. She realized grimly that there was none they could reach within ten minutes.

"Shit," came the whisper from the back as the sound of flapping wings came closer and Michael turned, letting his nails grow and his teeth elongate, and braced for impact against a flying Markus, who came their way with increasing speed.

The collision shattered the glass separating the cabin from the back, and Selene maneuvered the truck under a rain of shards while punches and ragged breathing could be heard.

Both Hybrids reached for the other's throat simultaneously, but Markus was the first one to break loose after hitting the wooden side of the bed. It was no use, as slashes and punches kept him from reaching Michael and the object of his attack, Sonja's gold and stone pendant, which hung from Michael's neck.

Selene looked back just in time to see Michael take a punch to the face as Markus grabbed hold of the pendant. She reached for her semiautomatic gun and pressed down on the trigger, keeping her finger there until Michael was able to pull himself up again.

Markus roared and flew alongside her window for a moment, slamming his shoulder into it and breaking the glass. Selene recoiled and accidentally jerked the wheel to the side, resulting in the truck crashing against a solid rock wall; every glass remaining broke then, and Amelia protected herself from the shards with her arms, however, one of them nicked her cheek. She ignored the small wound and held on to the seat, looking back at an exhausted Michael through what remained of the rearview mirror. Once Selene regained control of the vehicle, Markus grabbed hold of her neck through the broken window.

"Dead or alive, you will give me what I want!" he threatened.

Selene panted, and tried to rid herself of his grasp by wildly turning the steering wheel about. This gave Amelia enough time to reach for Selene's discarded gun, which she then pointed in the direction of Markus' head. She grimaced, closed her eyes and fired. Markus recoiled and started to fly around the front to get to Amelia's side. Selene asked for the gun and Amelia was more than glad to give it to her, sighing before glancing back at Michael as Selene fired at the flying Hybrid.

"What are you doing?" Amelia asked Markus as he avoided most bullets. He grabbed on to the doorframe and stuck his head in through the hole where the window used to be.

"You know full well what I'm doing, Princess," he spat, flapping his wings madly to stay in the air. He looked at her curiously for a few seconds, and then commented, "In fact, you could also give me what I need…" His teeth neared her neck and she pulled back just as Selene purposefully slammed the side of the truck against the cliff wall, dragging a screeching Markus along its jagged edges until the hands loosened around the metal frame.

Through the mirror, Selene saw him roll over but stepped on the gas pedal, sighing in relief when he made no move to chase them again. Michael also sighed and picked up Sonja's pendant from the metal bottom of the bed before turning back to his normal, human form. Another shirt had been lost in the transformation, but he'd sustained no serious injuries. He leaned his hands on the back window frame, and tried to regain his breath. Amelia wordlessly reached into her bag and offered him one of the blood packages, hoping he'd take it and drink, although she knew that was unlikely.

He shook his head and reached for his jacket. Amelia shrugged and handed the plastic bag to Selene, who tore into it and gulped its contents down in mere seconds.

"You okay?" Michael asked cautiously. Selene ignored the question and Amelia gave a slight nod. "He wanted this," Michael said, holding the necklace up before passing his head through the chain, "Why?"

Amelia's eyes widened as she recognized the necklace, after centuries of it having gone missing after Lucian's 'demise'. She knew what exactly the pendant was and did, but she felt she was not the one to explain, and so she put on a neutral mask and looked forward again, sinking into thoughts. What could Markus possibly want with the necklace? He had no idea of its true purpose, did he? She didn't think so, but he wasn't about to let the pendant go.

Selene stared at the pendant, "I don't know," she said, but then her skin tingled in the way it did the very last seconds of the night and she turned, panicked, to look at the sky. "But we have another problem…"

Amelia had accepted already that they were not heading back to the mansion, but heading in the same direction the sun was rising from was no clever idea, either. With a low hiss of discomfort at the blinding rays, she closed her eyes and ducked, using the dashboard to shield herself as much as possible from the deadly light. Her back was getting warmer, and she had no doubt that it would begin to smoke in a small while.

She had once suffered severe burns to her retinas because of the sun, and wasn't willing to repeat the experience. Even now, when a light was too bright, her pupils would constrict in panic and discomfort.

"Shit," Michael whispered as he saw Selene's skin start to burn, first her hand on the steering wheel and then the side of her face as she turned to protect her eyes, "Get down," Michael ordered while leaning over the Vampire and grabbing hold of the wheel.

"Keep your foot on the gas, but stay down", he told her, driving the truck into an old, weak wooden fence. The speed allowed the vehicle to drive over the fence without much trouble, but after that came a heavier gate.

"Hold on," Michael warned, and instinctively Amelia curled up and grabbed her knees, her back hitting the dashboard with the force of the impact. Selene's head snapped up, but was gently led down again by Michael.

He got off the truck, crossed the room quickly, and promptly threw a large piece of black cloth over the cabin, protecting the Vampires from the cold winter sun. The sound of moaning metal reached their ears, and the women finally sat upright again, Selene covering her burnt hand with the other. Having just fed, her wounds had already started to heal, but they still hurt. Amelia winced as the sore skin on her back stretched, and rummaged in the blessed darkness of the cover for a blood package, sinking her fangs into the plastic to take a gulp of the cold liquid.

"What happened to the coven?" she asked, taking a deep breath to brace herself for whichever atrocity Markus had committed before flying off after them.

Selene bit her lower lip and whispered, "He lit it on fire." She expected some people to have escaped, and thanks to Kraven's political plotting some of the nobles had their own estates and were safe from harm, but still a large number of their kin had died that night.

Amelia gasped, coming to the same conclusion as Selene had, but also realizing that she and Markus were the Elders who were to take responsibility over the mess, since Viktor was dead. And Markus was crazed right now, abusing his new abilities to get Sonja's pendant. She sighed and hid her face in her hands. Her coven oversees surely thought her dead, and with no response from Ördögház the Washington Coven was certainly in chaos. She had to call to explain the situation and arrange flights for the living nobles to get to America.

Michael opened the door on Amelia's side and handed them thick blankets, pointing to a heavy metal door. The Vampires hurried to get to it and stood anxiously as Michael tore the metal chain keeping it closed with a claw. They were shoved inside, and Michael reached for Selene's hand, inspecting the burn and uttering a quiet curse.

"There's really no need," Selene told him, knowing her burns would heal in little time, but he ignored the comment and left again, closing the door and eliminating the last light source in the small space. Selene reached for the black bag she had carried from the safehouse and lit the area with an orange glowing stick. It wasn't really necessary as they could both see well enough in the shadows of the room, but having come from squinting under a blanket to the utter darkness of a windowless room was just like turning off the light of a bright room; their eyes had yet to adjust to the new lack of illumination.

Amelia reached for the bag and rummaged through it, holding another glowing stick triumphantly up after a few seconds. She looked across the room, trying to find a door other than the one they had come through. She felt strange, not in control of the situation, and was trying to make herself useful at the very least.

The door opened again and Michael came in, carrying a first aid kit he'd clearly torn off a wall.

"Alright, let me see," he said to Selene, reaching for her hand. She took a step back and signaled Amelia to come closer, thinking it disrespectful that Michael should concern himself with her before an Elder. Amelia jokingly rolled her eyes and looked sharply at Selene.

"I'm fine," she stated, feeling the skin on her back regenerate over the last of the burns.

Michael took her words as an indication that he should concern himself with Selene, so he took her hand and looked it over, finding it healed, if a little red.

"See?" Selene repeated, "No need."

Michael looked pointedly at her and pulled off her glove, ascertaining there were no injuries before reaching up to check the side of Selene's face, also unmarred. She let out a sigh at all his unnecessary attention, but let him look for a while more, until he was finally convinced that the wounds were gone.

Amelia looked around the room again disinterestedly, taking in the bed and small bedside table. However, she smirked as she caught sight of another door. She turned around to ask Michael if he knew where the door led to, only to find him kissing Selene. With a raised eyebrow, she turned around again, not willing to interrupt them, and crossed the door to another dark room.

There was a tiny cot pushed up against a corner and a small table in the middle of the room, along with an empty shelf above the cot. The place had been deserted for a long time, if the sheen of dust on the furniture was anything to go by. Amelia slapped the mattress to get rid of the dust on it and laid down, thinking more about preserving the couple's privacy than her own status as Vampire royalty, which would have allowed her to order them into the tiny room. Thinking back to what had happened in the night, she decided she owed them more than that.

-oOo-

Amelia awoke to the sound of a roaring engine, but lay still for a while, listening closely for any indication as to what to do next. "Sun's setting," came Michael's voice from the other room, and she sighed and got up to open the door.

Selene was standing in the middle of the room, wrapped in a blanket and holding Sonja's pendant in her hands, however, the edges of it had spread out like Amelia knew they could once the hidden mechanism was activated.

"I've seen this before, when I was a child," the Death Dealer started in a whisper, keeping her eyes on the medallion, "I've held it when it was open, like this."

Amelia had to stop herself from grimacing at Selene's new discovery, but managed to stand still and waited for a reaction from Michael.

"How is that possible?" he finally asked, looking briefly at Amelia before taking the pendant in his hands. Selene pressed the small stone in the middle and pushed the edges back inside with a finger.

"I don't know," she breathed, "but I know someone that might."

"Tanis," Amelia finally stepped into the room, letting her black hair loose only to pull it back up again and secure it with a hair band. She walked defiantly in front of Selene and finally stood close to her face, forcing her to take a step back, as she felt somewhat intimidated by the Elder.

"And it is now, when you have need for a historian, that you go to him," Amelia hissed and then chuckled darkly, "Well he's still where you left him last time, deprived of his purpose on a dictator's whim."

She left the room, slamming the door closed, and went to sit in front of the car Michael had fixed as the truck had been totaled in their escape from the sun. She wasn't trying to protect Tanis, but what had happened to him, although fruit of his own stupidity, had been a selfish action from Viktor, and undeserved by Tanis. To strip him of his position as historian had been the last drop for Amelia. But that had been centuries ago, and she'd learned to accept there was nothing she could do to help Tanis. Still, and risking her fragile relationship to Viktor, she had sent him books for safekeeping over the years. These books, and his skills, would now be necessary to explain the truth to Michael and Selene.

"Andreas Tanis," Selene's voice took her back to reality, and Amelia opened the door to the Jeep, this time going in the back seat. Michael glanced at her questioningly but she nodded and he took the front seat. Selene disappeared under the dashboard for a few minutes but emerged again as the car roared to life. She smirked; she had learned to hotwire a car not too long ago, but it was a useful skill, even if the Vampires preferred not to use it too often in order not to attract much attention.

"He was the official historian of the covens," continued Selene, "He fell from favor after he was caught talking what Viktor considered malicious lies," Selene looked at Michael, seeing he understood her meaning before driving out of the garage. "Of course as it turns out, he was probably telling the truth."

In the back seat, Amelia let out a quiet snort and rolled her eyes.

"What happened?" asked Michael, glancing back at Amelia for a second.

"He was exiled over three hundred years ago," Selene replied dryly.

"What makes you think we're gonna find him now?"

"I was the one who exiled him," Selene explained, and looking at Amelia through the rearview mirror, added, "and in light of recent events I've realized it was a mistake."

Amelia just nodded in acceptance and looked out through the window, taking in the snowy landscape provided by the Hungarian winter.

"How long will it take us to get there?" Michael asked.

Selene was about to reply when Amelia spoke, "It'll only be a couple of hours."

She sighed, thinking about Tanis and the details of his turning. The filthy cell she'd rescued him from, just as Viktor had Lucian; the tiny attic in the west tower he was allowed to have for centuries before the Fortress was taken over by the Lycans; her anger at the news of his exile…

"It's a key," Amelia whispered finally, reasoning nobody could leave Tanis' presence without knowing some truth. He did it just to enrage Viktor, she was sure, but it was inevitable and Tanis was the only one brave, or foolish, enough to try to get away with spreading out the Covens' secrets and still keep his antics a secret from Viktor.

"What is?" Michael turned around, and even Selene glanced back before turning her brown gaze back to the road.

"The pendant," Amelia elaborated, "It's one of two keys made by Viktor."

She spoke that freely because she was certain Selene would not remember the prison until she talked to Tanis, but she had said more than enough and so quieted down again. Selene seemed to understand and didn't question any further, looking at Michael to make sure he wouldn't ask either.


	3. The Historian

AN: Sorry about the long waits between chapters, I try to post them with a little time in-between, but then I just forget :P

Also, many, many thanks to those who review, you really make my day and everybody seems to know exactly when I need it! :D

So, after having sat uncomfortably for the last four hours and having the contents of my brain vacuumed (except history and German), I managed to focus for just long enough to squeeze out the last paragraph to my homework. As a little treat for myself, here you go!

(Thanks. Celtic Aurora, for correcting the chapters!)

3. THE HISTORIAN

The big stone cross was the first thing on sight, preceding a huge building practically in the middle of nowhere. The tall façade loomed over the Jeep as they took the last turn.

"It looks like a monastery," Michael observed.

"It used to be," replied Selene, "It's more like a prison now. Tannis has been hiding here since Viktor so ordered. We'll be the first people he's seen in centuries."

Amelia chuckled at her words, "I seriously doubt it," she commented, "You know how well connected he was before being exiled and with his personality, I doubt he was alone for long."

Tannis had had a lot of allies within the Coven, mostly nobles against the Elder monarchy, but also curious newborns. He was the person to go to for a translation or information on a certain subject. If he could gain any benefit from it, he would spread out information about members of the Coven, too. He wasn't exactly the most popular, and was a weakling at the best, but he could destroy a person with facts alone. Being so, not many got between him and whatever he wanted. Mostly, he wanted women, to which Amelia just sighed and rolled her eyes; he was a man capable of making his own decisions and apparently, also capable of creating his own enemies.

Selene stopped the car in front of an ancient wooden door, crisscrossed with barbed wire. There was a sign both in Hungarian and English, which said to beware of the guard dog.

"That's odd, I don't remember this gate being here," said Selene, and took a gun out of her hip holster. "Take this," she handed it to Michael and opened the door with a determined look on her face.

After a glance from Amelia, Michael took Selene's place and waited for her to open the wooden door wide enough for the car to pass through. He drove behind Selene, who was holding up a gun in case something unexpected happened.

She stopped and turned around to face the headlights, and even inside the Jeep Amelia was able to hear the creaking and turning of unused, rusty cringes somewhere below Selene.

"Go back!" Selene shouted before the ground swallowed her up. Leaning over the dashboard, Amelia managed to see the two hard wooden pieces of a trapdoor rise back into place.

There was a rattling of chains from the left, and Michael had about enough time to hear it coming closer before a burly beast slammed into the side of the car, pushing it towards a deep ditch in the snow. Amelia opened the door and managed to get out before the vehicle fell, and saw a half-transformed Michael speed past her and collide with the Lycan. It was chained by the neck and its head was restricted in movement, but it still posed enough of a threat in its beastly state.

Amelia turned her eyes to night heavens, as if asking why, and then rolled her eyes at Tannis' well planned defense system, not appreciating the irony behind the 'Guard dog' in the least. As thorough as the security was, the Lycan was still no match for the Hybrid, and with a sigh Amelia watched another one come from the same way the first had approached, and faced it as it ran at her.

She was the weakest Elder, but her strength equaled that of the Death Dealers and in a space wider than a train wagon, she was able to sidestep the Lycan and catch its neck as it turned around to face her again. With a set mouth and determination in her eyes, she squeezed. A whimper escaped the beast's snout, and once the body had gone limp, she threw it forcefully against a tree, leaving a deep dent in its bark.

When she turned around, she found Michael offering her a hand to go into the narrow passage the Lycans had come from. She raised an eyebrow at him.

"I'm not going through there; Tannis wouldn't dare hurt an Elder," she started to walk in the other direction, over a small fence, when she noticed Michael get up to follow her. She took a few steps and looked down at her feet, surprised to see the black gun stand out against the pale snow.

"You should go help Selene, though," she told him, "I'm sure there are more Lycans down there and she has no gun," she pointed to the snow before her feet, where Selene's Beretta lay, half-hidden. Michael nodded and wordlessly slid into the hole with set eyes.

Amelia sighed and turned around to face the stone behemoth that was the former monastery. She reassured herself by repeating Tannis didn't have the courage to directly hurt an Elder, and much less her. She reached the wall quickly, her superhuman speed making it easy to avoid sinking down in the snow as she stepped on it with light feet. Once she came to the wall, she put her hand against the cold stone, feeling the chill seep into her veins but not really minding it. Focusing, she laid the tip of her foot against the wall as well, and with a strong pull launched herself about three feet upwards, quickly sticking again to the wall in the manner Vampires could. While their furry cousins held on with sharp claws, Vampires managed to somehow pull at the materials with their skin.

It didn't take Amelia long to reach the open window she had been heading to, and swinging her legs over the windowsill she noticed she was in a hallway, with long, heavy drapes hanging over the sides of the opening to be pulled over the open glass doors. Her steps echoed off the walls as she followed the way to the right until she came to a door, which she pulled open without much thought. There wasn't much behind it, just a storage room with many black boxes. The room had no windows, and Amelia didn't know if it was the stuffy air or something else, but she didn't dare take a single step inside. Her skin prickled in warning, and she scratched at her arm nervously before closing the door again and heading in the opposite direction.

The place wasn't really as large as it had looked out to be from the outside, and Amelia just had to go through another few empty hallways before coming to the side of the monastery the sun didn't shine on. She noticed it immediately, feeling the colder air. She shrugged it off and walked on, trying to head in the direction she thought Tannis' room would be. The rooms for Vampires were placed where the sun was less likely to shine in any building, and so if the monastery had no basement Amelia was close.

The next indication of her heading in the right direction wasn't all that pleasant, and could definitely not be shrugged off. She raised an eyebrow at the approaching Vampire, and frowned at her attire before having to step back to avoid a swing from the underdressed woman. She let out a patronizing sigh, but reacted when the other lunged again. Amelia grabbed hold of an extended wrist and pulled hard. She stayed off the way as the other Vampire flew head first into the stonewall, denting it and sitting up, dazed. She shot Amelia a withering look and got up. The Elder, annoyed already, approached carefully and then reached up to her foe's neck, twisting it hard enough that it cracked. Without a will to hold it up, the body crumbled to the floor. Uncaring, Amelia stepped by the corpse and walked on. There was a quiet scream from ahead, telling Amelia to go down the hallway to the left. It was, however a man's scream, which didn't much fit with the scene she came to see next.

As she turned the corner, she heard an ugly crack and saw a body fall down, and Selene walk on ahead. As the dead Vampire fell, there was another quiet scream. The Death Dealer turned around and nodded at Amelia before walking on and disappearing behind another corner. Amelia tilted her head in an unbalanced mix of confusion and repulsion, the latter being the most prominent due to the… minimalist choice of clothing on this other woman. Amelia would have liked to use another term to describe the dead Vampire's state, but the words escaped her as she once again laid sight on the body. How could one of their kind, thought to be the nobler of the two Corvinus strains, accept to be transformed into that? It was a disturbing sight, especially for her, who had to maintain a public image as the owner of Ziodex Industries and the ruling Elder.

The confusion took over again, but was quickly replaced by anger as she finally realized what the screams had been. She shook her head, repressing a shudder, and walked on, intent on finding Tannis as quickly as was possible.

A shot echoed off the walls someplace ahead, and Amelia hurried to the next hallway, to finally come to find the man.

Tannis stood, rifle in his hands, behind Selene, whose head was turned to him. A small dent in the wall showed where the bullet had embedded itself, and Selene smiled and commented,

"I see your aim hasn't improved."

Amelia raised an eyebrow and approached them. Tannis was so focused on Selene, apparently still fearing her for exiling him that he failed to notice Amelia.

"You don't scare me, Selene," he said, shifting a hand on the rifle and about to take aim again, when a shuffling was heard from outside. Confused, Tannis looked up just as the glass on a high window broke and Michael landed right in front of him. The Hybrid was fully transformed and hissing at Tannis in a strange protectiveness, grabbing on to the historian's coat fur lining. Selene smirked.

"Well, we're gonna have to work on that," she said proudly, since Tannis' fright was set on his face, and it didn't look like it would disappear anytime soon. Amelia approached them with a snarl and stopped a few steps away from Tannis, who Michael was letting go. When the Hybrid's hands were off the Historian, Amelia slapped him. His eyes closed in shock and pain as he turned his head back to come to face the furious Vampire. His face took on a surprised expression and his mouth opened to speak, but Amelia interrupted,

"You bonded to those whores?" she sputtered in indignation, "How could you?" she reached for Tannis' neck and lifted him up by it, slamming his back against the stone wall to Selene and Michael's surprise. Amelia had, after all, been the one to defend Tannis when Selene had passed judgment on him.

Amelia, however, didn't care what anybody would think of her. A blood bond was a delicate matter, and it was not meant to be used for the purpose Tannis had. The level on which one's feelings were shared through the bond was quite intimate already, and to have a third person involved was something she found atrocious.

"To use that knowledge for such an end," she continued, pointing to his attire and the bite on his neck with her free hand, and glowering at Tannis, "is unacceptable. You betrayed my trust, Tannis. If we had no need of you I would kill you for it."

Tannis looked even more frightened and shocked, and started pleading for his life in a whisper.

"Since we do," Amelia cut him off again, "you will lead us to someplace we can speak, you will tell these two," she pointed to Selene and Michael, "the truth about William, and you will provide sustenance and weaponry for us tonight."

She smirked as Tannis nodded shakily, and let him go with a disapproving glance back to the hallways the two Vampires lay in, dead.

-oOo-

Apparently, Tannis found his room to be a more decent place to speak, and so Amelia, Michael and Selene were led through winding, dark hallways to it. The space was well lit, with yellow lights and candles that gave it a medieval feel the Turkish rugs on the stone floor and the rocky finish to the walls just highlighted.

Selene approached the bed, which was covered in fur blankets, and with an expression of disgust lifted a black lacey thong from the wooden foot of the bed.

"I don't remember an exile being so comfortable," she said cynically, "especially not one imposed by Viktor."

Tannis shrugged, "I'm well connected," he said casually.

"Why does a Vampire have Lycan bodyguards?" Michael asked while donning a jacket he had found in a closet over his shoulders, and once again proving his deep involvement in a war that hadn't been his a mere three days ago.

"A gift," Tannis replied, pouring himself a glass of blood from a crystal decanter, "from a most persuasive client."

Selene approached the wall and looked curiously at an old tapestry with a few holes in it. Swinging it to the side, she revealed a tall alcove with many black open boxes that shone an eerie blue.

"Lucian," she guessed.

Amelia squinted as the tingling on her skin returned. From Selene's memories, she knew the UV rounds were only harmful if the thin glass covering broke, which was what happened once the bullets were shot, but she still wouldn't have held the cartridges willingly. Instead, she turned on Tannis as Selene readied a crossbow.

"How long, Tannis?" she asked in a voice so controlled, it made her thinly veiled patience evident. Her eyes turned a lighter shade as the green in them took over the brown. "How long have you been slaughtering your own kind?" Amelia nearly hissed as she asked again, "Since when are you no more than a traitor, sneaking around and trading weapons you know can destroy us? And to vermin, no less!"

She raised an open hand, intending to slap him again when she remembered she still required his knowledge. Her hand fisted loosely in the air and slowly dropped back down to her side as she took a deep breath.

"The decision was made easy the day your precious Viktor," he looked back at Selene, "betrayed me."

"Quite honestly," Amelia commented, "you had it coming. What you did was foolish."

"Betrayal," said Selene, "was something Viktor did very well." She steeled herself for his reaction and then added, "He's dead. I killed him."

"You? Kill Viktor?" Tannis chuckled quietly, "I think not." There was something in the glare Selene threw him, though, that made him realize his mistake. "Unless, of course, you've learned the truth…" He trailed off and looked sideways at Amelia, as if asking her for a confirmation. She nodded.

Tannis said nothing after that, but Amelia had expected no answer from him. She threw a questioning glance at him but looked back at Selene, who had spoken.

"Viktor put you here for a reason," she said, looking back at the weapons alcove, "but I doubt it was because you have moral qualms." She picked up the crossbow, "What do you know that would be important enough to exile you?"

"Very little of anything," Tannis replied, taking a step away from Amelia and sighing in what appeared to be regret, "I'm afraid."

Selene reached for the crossbow she had readied in the alcove and pointed it threateningly at Tannis. He didn't react to it, and so Selene pulled the trigger and a projectile flew straight at the glass of blood in the historian's hand, shattering it with deadly precision.

Amelia rolled her eyes at the display, but more so at Tannis' bravado. Even Michael, who had been in the room with him for under ten minutes, had realized already: The historian was a coward.

"We do not care for modesty right now. What do you know?" Amelia punctuated every syllable of the question, as if doing this would help the message reach his brain.

"Markus was after this," Michael interrupted, throwing Tannis Sonja's medallion, "Why?"

"Some history is based on truth, and other is on deception. But, as most say, truth begins in lies." The historian searched the shelves with his shifty gaze, reaching for an old, dusty book he then brought to the table to examine under the candlelight.

Amelia half-listened to his rant and instead searched the shelves herself, looking for a book she had had sent to the monastery a few decades away. She glanced back to see the Vampire and Hybrid listening attentively, and catching sight of the weaponry again.

Once she had found the book, she laid it out on the table next to Tannis, along with the one that concerned the medallion, and returned to her place by the alcove. Scoffing at her irrational, sudden fear, she reached for a black duffel bag and started filling it with the blue rounds, noticing they really were harmless unless the liquid came in direct contact with her skin. After that, she took the ammunition for the crossbow, feeling more comfortable taking the ancient weapon for herself than she would be carrying a gun around. Finally she loaded three Berettas, one for Michael and the other two for Selene. Once the bag was full, she pulled at the string to close it and walked back to the table with it just as Tannis reached for the first book she had laid out for him.

He thanked her with a nod and leafed through the old pages with utmost care until he confirmed the book was the right one and left the volume open on the table to turn to speak again. Amelia handed the guns first to Selene, who holstered them with a quiet thanks, and then his to Michael, who took it carefully with a shadow of concern over his features.

"The safety's on," Amelia reassured him, and left him to deal with his internal conflicts alone.

Tannis had confirmed Kraven's confession to be the truth, not without trying to get Selene back on his side, which, needless to say, was futile. He had also told the truth about Viktor's turning, lifting the veil off the lies most Vampires had lived under for centuries, and retold of how a dying Viktor had been granted a very unusual gift by Markus Corvinus, the first true Vampire.

"Viktor was supposed to use his army turned immortal to help him," Tannis said, narrowing his eyes at Selene's following question; her stance expressed what her words could not: Reluctance to accept the truth she was being told. "To defeat the very first Werewolf," resumed Tannis, "a dangerous and infectious breed, created by Markus' own flesh and blood: His twin brother, William."

Amelia nodded to Tannis again, distractedly, and he resumed his talk, "But these weren't the Lycans we know." He turned to look at Michael, who rolled his eyes at the next comment. "Disgusting though your brethren may be, they at least are evolved. These were raging monsters, unable to take human form ever again. It was only later generations that learned to channel their rage."

"Again, Lucian was the one to do it," added Amelia, and Selene turned to look at her with surprise etched across her features. She wouldn't ever have thought the Lycans had been the Vampires' slaves for so little time, and that the first controlled Lycan had also been the one to instigate a revolution that had led to the war they had fought for over half a millennium.

"William's appetite for destruction and rampage was insatiable," Tannis continued, "he had to be stopped, and so once Viktor's army was turned, legions of Vampires under his control tracked down and destroyed the animals, then captured William. Locked him away. Viktor's prisoner, for all time," Tannis finished bitterly, as if he found similarities between himself and the imprisoned Werewolf.

"Why let him live?" Selene asked carefully and approached Tannis.

"For the very same reason that Viktor never conspired against Markus. Fear. He was warned that, should Markus ever be killed, all those in his bloodline would follow him to the grave."

"So, in Viktor's mind," Selene concluded, "William's death would mean the end for all Lycans. His slaves."

"And killing Markus would have been suicide," added Amelia. "He was too fond of himself to try to push Markus to the limit."

"A clever deception, but one Viktor was hardly willing to put to the test. And so Markus was protected, at all costs."


	4. Denial To Face The Facts

AN: Yay! Finally the moment to reveal my (for now) not-so-important OC. Anyways, enjoy! Thanks to the reviewers and to Celtic Aurora :D

4. DENIAL TO FACE THE FACTS

Tannis tapped a finger against a yellowing page and whispered, "Ah, yes, here we are."

Michael and Selene leaned closer to see a detailed drawing of a war burial ground. The image was inked in black, as was custom in the medieval times, and the figures depicted were two-dimensional, indicating to a time before the Renaissance. Over the buried corpses were men in horses.

"Vampires?" Michael guessed.

Amelia shook her head next to them. "Humans," she replied pointing to the emblem on one of the horse's armor plates. An uppercase A was intertwined with a C and a V, forming an oval shape with a tiny crown on top of it. "Men loyal to Alexander Corvinus, the first immortal," Tannis told them. As he let the realization sink in, he shuffled through the book Amelia had handed him, stopping at a page with a copy of what could have been the blueprint for William's sarcophagus-like prison, and the two keys used to open it. Hadn't he been under Amelia's careful gaze, she was sure he would have left out that whole part, but she nodded in encouragement as he turned to look at her.

"What's this?" asked Selene.

"William was imprisoned for all eternity in a coffin. As you see," he pointed to the drawing, "it has minimal space to move, and a small hole that would twice a year," he emphasized, "give him his miserable sustenance."

Everybody waited for the historian to continue. "This prison can be opened only with its two keys." Tannis laid the medallion alongside its paper and ink counterpart and, quite unnecessarily, added, "This is one of them."

"And it having belonged to Sonja was not just coincidence," Amelia pointed out, "Viktor realized it was the safest in the hands of a noblewoman, and a death dealer. He thought no Lycan would dare put a hand on her," she chuckled at the irony that was Sonja's falling for Lucian.

"Wait a minute," Selene said, staring at the page and shaking her head lightly. "That still does not explain why that pendant looks familiar."

"Simple," said Tannis cheerily now that he had finally satisfied his urge to tell the truth, if only once. He turned the page and pointed at a list of names in it, one in particular. "Do you recognize that name? This is the prison your father was commissioned to build."

"But that is… Still… Why?" Selene finally spoke, obviously surprised.

"What's wrong?" Michael neared Selene, upset at her sudden change in demeanor.

"She now understands why her family was killed."

"But… That was many years later…" Selene argued.

"The winter of Lucian's escape. Your father knew too much. Or too much for Viktor to risk. Especially when Lucian held the key to William's cell," Tannis said, holding the pendant up and then placing it back into Michael's hand.

Selene took a couple steps back and turned her back to Tannis, trying to sort her thoughts. Michael turned towards her and put a hand on her back until she had collected herself again and turned back to face Tannis.

"Why is Markus looking for William now?" asked Michael, trying to keep Selene's mind off the death of her family.

"That, I can not answer," replied Tannis calmly, pouring himself another glass of blood and ignoring the shards on the floor. He offered each of his guests the cup, but all declined.

Selene rolled her eyes at him, and looked at Amelia with a somewhat defying gaze as she said, "Then perhaps we were mistaken and there's no use for him at all."

She was surprised to see the Elder glare at Tannis and nod to her statement, but the act had the desired effect: Tannis gulped heavily and looked thoughtful for a quick moment.

"I know someone," he started hesitantly, "who could stop him. Perhaps I should arrange a meeting?"

"Please do," answered Amelia and smirked at the lack of any real threat to Tannis in their previous statements.

"Go to Pier 17," he instructed, "and ask for Lorenz Macaro. He should be able to help."

Selene nodded, looking back at Michael who was behind her. Amelia just stared absently, trying to figure out why the name was familiar.

The historian smirked and barely lifted the cover of the last book on the table. Slowly, Amelia approached and pushed the cover back down, finding no resistance from Tannis' hand. She turned to look at Selene and Michael in turn.

"Leave us," she requested quietly, still keeping her hand on top of the old, leather-bound cover of the book. Selene nodded and led Michael out, and back into the dark hallways.

Once the door had closed behind the couple, Amelia sighed and looked down, then turned her gaze to Tannis again and slid the book over the table towards herself. She passed the yellow pages with utmost care, and finally stopped at one of them.

"Here," she slid the book over to Tannis again, and tapped the page with one slender finger.

Tannis looked over the drawing, which was the same kind as the one of Corvinus and the burial ground. This one, however, was in sepia and was a much crueler depiction of a dark aspect of the Corvinus bloodlines: The viruses had a tendency to destroy each other. The man seemed to jump out of the page, and the pain and horror he felt over being killed from the inside out were almost real to the two Vampires. Amelia looked away after a short while and buried her head in her hands, but Tannis stared at the gruesome drawing a while longer before looking up and finally asking,

"My Lady? Why are you showing me this?"

She closed her eyes, as if she still had doubts about what she was about to say, and then with a sigh unzipped the leather trench coat, trademark of the Death Dealers, and laid it on the table, where a black blouse, thankfully not leather, joined it shortly after. Amelia stood now, in a black tank top, before a speechless Tannis and started to rip the tape off the bandage in her shoulder.

Tannis turned his shifty gaze to the sepia drawing, and then back to gape at the wound she uncovered. Around the gashes, the skin was reddened angrily, and in itself, there had been little to no healing; the bleeding, though, had at least stopped.

"My Lady…" Tannis whispered out, unable to keep his gaze from wandering back and forth between the book and her shoulder, and finally asked, "Is that a bite?"

She nodded, and started trying to tape it again. "I have cleaned it every time I had the necessary materials, but to no avail."

"But you do know that—"

"There's not much I can to when the Lycan virus keeps attacking my skin," she sighed again. "I trust you," she explained with some hesitation, "and I don't know what other choice I have."

Tannis pondered as he crossed the room to dig in a shelf and come back to hand her his first aid kit.

"Being closer to the source," he started slowly, fidgeting with his hands as she put fresh bandages on, "I believe you have time until the next full moon before the Lycan virus truly rampages. When that happens, though…" Tannis trailed off and shook his head, looking at her pointedly.

Amelia nodded grimly. She remembered what happened to the Vampires who were bitten; even though the weapons had changed already for the sake of discretion, the original viruses were still the most powerful in their arsenal. The way they dueled inside the veins of the unlucky ones burned them from the inside out, and stopped only in time to let death catch up with the Immortal Damned. Many a vampire had been sacrificed to keep him from ever experiencing such horror.

"Macaro should have a better idea," Tannis said, and Amelia again wondered where she had heard the name before.

"That man," she started, looking at the book and then grimacing at the sepia lines and closing it, "is he important somehow?"

Tannis chuckled, "I gather he is. Macaro is just the name he goes by these days, but you have known him for long."

"Really?" Amelia prompted, crossing her arms and waiting for Tannis to continue.

"Of course, you might have known him as…" he paused for suspense, but Amelia glared, "Alexander Corvinus," he relented.

"Oh," was the reply.

"Macaro is the name of a mortal who supposedly went missing a few years ago. His face was all over the news."

Amelia nodded, remembering. Her eyes though, were still wide with surprise. The old warlord still being alive was shocking enough, but the fact that he had remained hidden for over eight centuries was just astonishing. Yes, Amelia had met him, but only shortly before he had left the land and presumably died in the Crusades.

"Are you certain this is Corvinus?"

"He has the ring with the Corvinus crest, he has manuscripts older than myself…" Tannis explained, "I believe he even has some things that belong to you, my Lady."

Amelia lifted her eyebrows in questioning.

"You'll just have to ask when you go see him," Tannis shrugged.

"And what has he been doing all these centuries?" she asked, not even knowing what life would be like if one was to stay hidden for eight hundred years. She, at least, had to care for the Coven while she was awake and got to sleep for two centuries without losing any part of the history. She couldn't even begin to comprehend what it would be like to be there for all of it.

"He watches," Tannis laughed, "he cleans up after all of us. Vampires, Lycans, I presume he even knows about Michael already."

"Like a Nanny," Amelia quipped. She was actually grateful for the work they did, and she had actually seen it already; she had noticed the lack of public scandals recently, and understood the necessity of Corvinus' work. Still, it was none he should be doing in the first place. What was the man's involvement in the war? He had only fathered the first Vampire and Lycan. No more. He seemed to impose responsibilities on himself he oughtn't to.

Amelia turned her attention towards the stone walls and makeshift shelves, then to the sparse furniture, lingering only a few seconds on the rumpled bed, and finally to the many candles that served as only illumination to the room. A smile spread slowly across her lips; Vampires' love for the soft lighting fire could provide would turn out to be useful right now.

Tannis didn't like the way she looked at his books one bit, and when he saw the smirk he couldn't help but gulp visibly.

Amelia opened the door to let Selene and Michael back in. They slipped wordlessly back into the room, waiting obediently for a command or some other revelation from Tannis. After what they had all learned tonight, there wasn't much that could surprise them.

"Gather all of your books right here," Amelia told Tannis, pointing to the stone floor in front of her. Slowly, Tannis turned around to reach for the first of the leather-bound volumes.

"I'm sure," Amelia started as she reached for the closest stack of books and dropped it unceremoniously in the indicated spot, task with which Selene and Michael soon helped, "that over the centuries of your exile you have found the time to fulfill your obligation as Historian," she said to Tannis with a pointed glance, "and as such, you have already memorized the content of all these books."

Tannis nodded shakily as his hazel glance traveled back and forth between the now empty shelves, the growing stack of his precious books on the floor and Amelia.

She nodded. "I assume it wasn't hard," she remarked, "as the collection you have here is quite small, and you have an astounding memory. What is it that mortals call it? Photographic memory, if I recall correctly."

"So it is, my Lady," he replied with a grimace as the last of the forty or so volumes finally met the pile.

Amelia took one of the candles off the surface of the table and then calmly asked, "Where does your loyalty lie, Tannis?" she was playing with him, that she knew, for when threatened Tannis would become compliant. And that, precisely, was what she needed of him right now.

In the presence of the Elder who had turned him, one of the best Death Dealers, and a Hybrid, the only obvious answer was, "With you, of course, my Lady. You were the one to grant me the gift of eternal life…" Tannis was about to rant on, but stopped when Amelia raised a hand. She had forgotten how much of a lousy flatterer and miserable poet he could be.

She nodded with a smile, and let the candle fall right on top of the pile. The dry paper caught fire easily, and, as expected, Tannis widened his eyes, let out a gasp, and stuck his hands in the stack to try to salvage as many books as he could. He managed to hold three in one hand, but his wrist was suddenly crushed painfully in Amelia's vice-like grip.

"Put them back in," she glowered, letting her eyes grow greener. Tannis seemed to freeze in fear before his fingers relented their hold and the books fell back down to be devoured by the building fire. Amelia let his wrist go and her eyes turn back to their usual color.

"Markus is coming. If he finds any of these," she pointed at the pile, "he will know what you told us. It is a mistake I don't plan on making, since he moves faster than we do and won't stop until he catches us. If I hear any of the information you have shared with us from his, or anyone else's mouth," she threatened, "I won't hesitate to come back for you and believe me, if I'm forced to return, you'll be wishing Markus had been decent enough to kill you himself."

Tannis nodded.

"Good," she acquiesced with a gentler tone. "Now, do you have a phone?"

-oOo-

Almost as soon as she was greeted by the operator's voice, drolly reciting the welcoming message in Hungarian, she said, "I would like to make an international call and charge the number, please."

The operator curtly replied, "Of course," and Amelia told her the number she was to connect the call to and waited. She was lucky János was in her office, and that the call did not have to be transferred to the lounge. He hummed into the phone, acknowledging he had picked it up.

"Don't you love this century?" she quipped as only greeting.

"Amelia…" he breathed, and by the sound of it, dropped a stack of papers in his astonishment. "I thought…"

"You were mistaken," she answered before he could complete the thought, perhaps a little too eager to change the subject. She did not take too kindly to being reminded of the train massacre. "I'm fine."

"The…" he started, bending to pick up the mess of papers.

"Council?" Amelia interrupted, pretty certain that was what he wanted to know. "Dead. All of them. I myself was lucky to make it out of there," she paused.

"Whose idea?" he asked angrily, gritting his teeth as he spoke.

"Kraven's." she answered, tightening a hand on the edge of the table the phone was set upon, creating a significant dent on the wood. "Needless to say, it was futile…" she took a deep breath and changed the topic, finally forgetting about the betrayal in the knowledge that that idiot had died suffering. "How have you managed? And please, answer in complete sentences; that habit of yours to cut off in the middle is most annoying."

János chuckled, sitting down on the leather chair and propping his feet on the desk in front of him. "My lady, it is you who keeps me from finishing."

Amelia smiled. "I know," she replied, a playful note in her voice. "So?"

"There's nothing remarkable to tell."

"Really? It seems you have yet to call the coven house, then…" she could see him, courtesy of their blood bond, slap his forehead and wince— He'd forgotten. She laughed, "So like yourself…I have yet to understand what compelled me to leave you in charge. Seriously though, there's no use now," she sighed.

"My lady?"

"He burned it to the ground. Could you get in contact with the Vampires that had their own estates…"

"Whoa, whoa… Slow down. You mean to tell me that the coven house has been destroyed?"

Amelia sighed into the receiver and then answered in an annoyed tone, "Yes, that is exactly what I mean to tell you, as you put it. You are to contact the nobles of our coven house that remain in Europe and provide safe passage to New York for them," she ordered rather than asked this time. "When I get back home I want to decide on a new council…"

"Who, Amelia, who did it?" János interrupted, a note of apprehension in his voice.

"Markus," she growled, then, after a moment of silence, she continued calmly, "There is much that went on here and that you have no idea about. I'll tell you once I'm in America again. For the moment, do as I tell you. Get the survivors to New York."

"Yes, my lady," he answered. By now, she was used to the on-and-off formalities, so she just added,

"And János…" she smiled mischievously as she again saw him through the bond, and then yelled into the receiver, "Get your feet off my desk!"

He chuckled. "All right, all right," was the reply, in a tone of mock-surrender. Satisfied, she hung up.

She finally came out of the room to find Selene and Michael waiting for her, the blood packages Tannis had at his disposal packed, and every weapon reloaded.

Tannis glanced anxiously at the bag in which all of his blood reserves had been stuffed, and Selene rolled her eyes at this.

"You'll have to survive on takeout from now on," she quipped. Tannis looked like he was about to add something to the effect of 'I don't eat', but Selene simply smiled and added, "I meant a different kind of takeout."


	5. Life Is Relative

AN: Please excuse the French sentences there, I kind of thought they fit, but I'm uncertain whether or not they're correct, I just ran them through Google translate, I already forgot all my French…

Thanks again to Celtic Aurora for corrections and ideas :D

5. LIFE IS RELATIVE

"How do you know Tannis isn't setting us up?" Michael asked, looking slightly nervous in his thick leather jacket as the Jeep parked on Pier 17.

"He's not brave enough to set me up," replied Selene, quite sure of that fact.

"And not stupid enough to set me up," added Amelia, who was sitting in front again. "Especially not when he knows my patience for his antics is running out," she commented quietly.

In the darkness and still of the night, one of the guards was able to approach them unnoticed. A dog's barking tore through the quiet, and, being the most human of them all, Michael jumped, unused to the automatic reaction in Selene and Amelia: Assess the situation and react accordingly. Inside the Jeep, even the scent of blood that would emanate from the guard and his canine companion was masked, but still the surprise lasted only few seconds.

"Tresspassé," the guard said, keeping the big black dog under control by pulling on its leash, "Sortez de la voiture que je puisse voir vos mains."

Selene looked at the man calmly and replied, also in French, that they wished to see Lorenz Macaro. To that, the guard just glared and repeated that they were trespassing and to exit the vehicle and show their hands.

Annoyed and with a slight frown, Selene extended a hand to the back, asking Michael for the pendant.

"Voulez voir mes mains?" she asked, slamming a palm against the window and holding the necklace in it for the man to see, "Alors."

Amelia smirked, and the human searched the inside of the vehicle, opening his eyes wide when she let her eyes gleam a toxic green. The unusual tone of her irises always had that effect on those familiar with Vampires; people expected the usual icy blue that had been thought to come along with the fangs. The green had even scared the hell out of several vampires, the first of them being Viktor, once she had been turned.

There was no doubt of her identity on the guard's mind, and so he stepped aside and mutely led them to the ship.

The ship was made of metal, and in the Hungarian winter the walls only served the purpose to keep it vaguely habitable. They were led through halls and stairs until they were in the very belly of the ship, and finally cane to a big office. The metal creaked softly as it was rocked by the waves, and there were the faintest of hisses sometimes when the wind slipped in between the metal plates the vessel was made of.

Michael pulled the jacket tighter around himself and stood behind Selene. The guards stopped slightly behind them and one nodded his head at the white-haired man sitting behind the desk. He stood respectfully, and said to the guards,

"You may go." His voice was quiet but rough, and the humans were by now used to obey to its particular pitch, so they left in a line through the door, shutting the immortals off from the noise coming from the rest of the ship. There was silence as each of them stared at the other, Selene turning to Michael for encouragement, Michael to Macaro with some precaution, and Macaro to Amelia to give her a small nod of recognition.

Michael dug out the pendant from under his jacket and handed it to Lorenz Macaro, who took it softly and traced the outline of one of the four turtles around the green gem with a finger.

"You're familiar with this, then?" asked Selene, her arms crossed.

Macaro pushed down on the stone and activated the mechanism within the pendant, "Intimately."

It was then Selene seemed to notice the ring on the man's finger. With a slight widening of her eyes, she declared in a whisper, "You're Alexander Corvinus."

"There was a time I was known by that name," he replied, handing Michael the necklace back, "but by any name, I am still your forefather."

A moment of silence ensued as the Hybrid slowly took the metal out of his hand and again hung the ancient medallion around his neck.

"How have you stayed hidden all these years?" Selene asked suddenly, and Amelia turned to Corvinus to hear the response. She was more than glad to let the Death Dealer handle the conversation, but once again she would eventually have to talk to the warlord alone.

"The same way you manage to avoid curious mortals," replied the warlord, "Important contacts and fake documents." He sighed and started pacing slowly, calm and collected in the situation. He could hear a helicopter leading from the upper deck, presumably to scout the area for anything unusual, for example a flying Hybrid.

"For centuries I've stood by and watched the havoc my sons have wrought upon each other, and upon humanity. Not the legacy I prayed for, the morning I watched them enter this world," he let out a sigh, "and a tiresome duty. Keeping the war contained, cleaning up the mess…" Amelia received a dark glance then, and although she very much deserved it for doubling his workload as she created the New World coven, the gesture from the stoic man was a surprise.

"Thank you, Amelia, for taking the war overseas." He said sarcastically, and then sighed, "As if it wasn't difficult enough to contain the Lycans to Europe, you had to leave and give them a reason to follow you. And all of it because you didn't want to deal with the politicians in Ördögház."

"And where does that lead back to?" retorted Amelia, not glad that he had the guts to call her by name and question her reasoning in the same sentence, "Your son changed me. He made me who and what I am," was the cryptic reply. She hoped the warlord would understand that she had been influenced by Markus in the first century after her turning. She sighed remorsefully as the memory assaulted her again; she hated to have to withhold information from him, but even now that Viktor was dead it was for his own good.

"What have you done to prevent this?" she snapped at Corvinus, "Even if you follow the war and protect civilians from it you do so from afar. Viktor was more helpful," she finished accusingly.

"Hiding my family's unfortunate history," he resumed, "includes not getting involved in matters of the conflict itself. Therefore, I remain impartial and invisible. Has it been useless these last eight centuries? Without me there, who would have cleaned the bloodshed in the sewers?" he defended. "No one," he pursed his lips, "Ördögház was destroyed hours after that, and your coven would have left the corpses there, waiting to be uncovered by humans someday. Don't try to lay the blame of your own failures on me."

"Couldn't you have stopped it?" Michael questioned, as Alexander turned around to face the metal blinds that had been drawn over the windows of the ship.

"Yes," stated Selene cynically, with her arms crossed. Amelia exhaled softly, knowing exactly what arguments the first immortal would use; she, too, had known Markus back when his judgment wasn't clouded by betrayal. Back when he could be trusted, she had done so completely, unwaveringly. And she had loved Markus, the vampire, not Markus, the monster he had become.

"Could you kill your own sons?" Alexander retorted sharply, despair pouring from his voice.

"You know what Markus will do," Selene realized, and then she tried to reason with the man, "If he finds me, he finds William's prison. You need to help us stop him."

"You are asking me," Corvinus started, facing Selene and speaking through his teeth, "to help you kill my son?" The question revealed he was outraged, even though he had tried to mask it with a calm tone. "You? A Death Dealer?"

Amelia turned to face Corvinus, who was nearing Selene. She raised a hand to stop him, as his eyes had a rather malicious glint, and noticed Michael taking a step closer to his beloved protectively. Her hand dropped back down.

"How many innocents did you kill in the six-century quest to avenge your family?" he continued, but at least he wasn't advancing anymore. Selene opened her mouth to reply but he cut her off venomously, "Spare me your self-righteous declarations. You are no different from Markus, and even less noble than William. At least he cannot control his savagery."

"Who do you think made us what we are?" Amelia cut in, feeling offended, "Do not forget the very reason Markus turned us was to stop that savagery."

Selene nodded and addressed Alexander, "Anything I've done," she said, punctuating every word, "can be laid at your feet." She glanced just briefly at Michael, once more regretting having to involve him this much with a war that wasn't his. "Hundreds of thousands have died because of your inability to accept that your sons are monsters. That they create monsters," she glared. "You could have stopped all of this."

"Do not come groveling to me simply because you are weaker than your adversary," hissed Corvinus.

"That will be enough," said Amelia, coming to stand before the man again. "You know the devastation William caused before he was captured," she stated, "He can not be set free."

Alexander turned around again, facing the overly organized glass cabinet that held all the antiques he had collected from the war.

"Tannis told me you have some things of mine," Amelia interjected, breaking the tense mood grudgingly, but eager to see what trinkets he had salvaged. She received a glance and a nod as the white-haired man sat down at his desk, opening a drawer and rummaging in it for a moment. He held out a small metal box, and then he turned around and walked over to a dark wooden shelf. Lying flat over it was another box, longer and larger than the first. It, too, went into her hands as Alexander stepped behind the desk once more.

Looking at him questioningly, she opened first the long box. Closing her eyes, she caressed the metal surface softly, before reaching for the sword's handle and holding it up. It was her father's blade, discarded in his final battle as it had broken against a Lycan's claws. Many a knight had been buried with a shattered sword, as the claws the metal was set up against had the strength to carve deep gashes in it and weaken the sword, causing it to eventually break during the battle.

She held on to the desk, blinded by memories suddenly. The moment lasted little, though, when Corvinus slowly slid the small box over to her and took the handle of the sword, laying it back in the box as it was no use to her. Maybe when she returned home, she would send for it, but right now it would only be a burden.

Expectantly now, Amelia lifted the lid off the box, and let out a soft gasp as she ran her finger over the silver ring, framed by dark blue velvet. It was her family's crest, and the ring had been passed down for generations and had finally gone lost when her father had died and there had been no male heir to pass it on to. She took a deep breath before taking it out and trying it on. It fit, but only on her thumb. Nonetheless, she smiled softly.

Corvinus nodded and held out a hand for the box.

"Thank you," she said, still smiling. He nodded.

"Selene," he called, opening another drawer and finally handing her a box similar to the one Amelia had just given back to him, "I believe you'll recognize it."

Selene still didn't trust him much, but she uncrossed her arms and reached for the box. Michael leaned in to look, too, and heard Selene's soft exhale as she held up an amber pendant. The oval-shaped necklace had been what she had worn the night she had been turned a vampire, and she had all but forgotten about it at the thought of the possibility to avenge her family. Now that she knew the truth, she couldn't help but stroke the pendant fondly, thinking of the irony that it had been Viktor, of all people, to try to convince her to keep it as a memento.

"Where did you get this?" she asked Corvinus, who just smiled mysteriously.

"Drew!" he called in the direction of the door. A thin, tall man came through a few seconds later, and waited by the door for a command.

"Take them to see the library; Selene, at least, should find some of the most antique volumes interesting," Corvinus commanded, and Drew nodded and went to lead the way. Selene looked back and then frowned a little, visibly fed up with the constant 'private talks' Amelia had with nearly everyone. Enough secrets had been unearthed already, but what Selene didn't understand, that which Amelia tried to convey when she looked at Selene, was that this wasn't about secrecy. Amelia was of the opinion that the younger ones should learn everything they could about the past of the bloodlines. No, this was primarily about vanity and composure; the Elder didn't want to be pitied, and much less did she want to be left out of this mess, which involved her much more than she'd like to admit, because of an injury she could do nothing against.

For the last few centuries the Elders had been nobles, diplomats, rulers, but if she had to choose she would want to die fighting, just like they used to when William rampaged through the lands.

Amelia didn't move. "I'll stay," she said as only response to the death dealer's questioning gaze. The door closed behind Michael, leaving the two elder immortals alone in the silent room. The chandelier clinked as its glass pieces rocked softly in time with the ship.

"I assume you have at least one copy of 'the History of both Great Houses' in there," said Amelia finally, looking in the direction of the man but not really meeting his eyes.

"I do."

"I also assume you had Tannis copy it directly from the one he had."

Corvinus nodded calmly, knowingly, and looked at her with an expression she deciphered to be of concern, which defeated the purpose of her next question.

"He called, did he not? Sneaky vermin."

At his next nod, she gave a slight roll of the eyes and a soft smile. The Historian was still pretty much the same treacherous weakling he had been centuries back.

"He sounded concerned," added Corvinus uncertainly, as if he was trying to determine if the worry was needed.

"Please," huffed Amelia, "you know I don't precisely rank high on his priority list. I made him burn his personal library; he needed someone to whine to."

"True," chuckled Corvinus. "So you were bitten by a Lycan?"

Still uncomfortable with the subject, Amelia looked away, but nodded in a rare display of shyness. "I know what you'll tell me," she spoke in a hushed, solemn tone, "I know what will eventually happen to me," she let out a huffed laugh. "I even know the reason it hasn't happened yet. All I need to know," she started with eyes that were welling up slightly and that finally met her forefather's, "is whether or not there is a way to fix it."

The man sighed and seemed to think it through for a second before shaking his head, "Besides drinking the blood of a Corvinus," he said, "I can think of no way."

Her reply was swallowed by the general noise of uproar that came from outside. Her keen hearing could pick up distant gurgling, and she knew almost immediately that Markus had found them.

The door was pulled open, and in strolled Selene and a slightly frightened Michael, who had his head tilted and was trying to listen to the noises from outside. Two of Alexander's men stepped into the room then, holding semiautomatic shotguns at the ready.

Amelia cringed and crouched instinctively at the sound of gunshots from outside. Selene did, too, stuffing the necklace she still had in her hand into her pocket unceremoniously and going to look out the window carefully, gun out.

"Szar," Amelia cursed as she picked up the sound of leathery wings approaching. She pressed herself against the wall next to Selene, and saw for herself as Markus deftly folded one of his wings, which took the shape of a long scythe at the tip, and managed to hold himself up by flapping the other wing.

Unwavering, Selene straightened up and started shooting at his wing, trying to bring the Hybrid down. Markus, though, seemed to ignore the bullets and instead forced his folded wing through the window, shattering the glass, and impaled first the two humans, who collapsed to the floor, dead. The limb retreated and then bolted forward again, catching Michael's shoulder and pulling him through the broken remains of the window.

Turning around, Selene reached for one of the shotguns, taking it from the body lying closest to her.

"Wait!" pleaded Corvinus, "you're no match for him."

The Death Dealer turned to look at him sharply, her pale blue eyes reminding him silently of the very same argument he had used with her. Even if he couldn't bare the thought of killing his heirs, she would not react kindly to having Michael attacked like that. In the icy gaze was a determination to save the Hybrid, as well as an admonition for Alexander's blandness towards his youngest son.

Selene then jumped out the window, and Amelia could see her making her way towards the area of the dock where things were unloaded from the ships, and disappear under the wooden planks. Amelia pulled out a knife, but she hesitated a while before tossing a glance to Alexander and making sure the oldest Immortal was well guarded. After this, and a reassuring nod from Corvinus, she followed Selene.

Even as she neared the source of the groans and clanks, there was evidence of the conflict; crates had been smashed to pieces, there were empty bullet casings on the wooden planks, and the calm night air was polluted by the acrid scent of burnt flesh. Amelia let out a gasp when she leaned to look under the planks, into the small square of water, and saw, first, Michael. He was unmoving, lying face up with his eyes open and glassy, his arms out towards the sides like a messed up Christ. Selene didn't seem to be in a better position; Markus' folded wings held her up off the water, one of them impaled on her knee and the other on her wrist above her head.

Selene was reaching up with her free hand, trying to get the semiautomatic, which was up on the planks next to Amelia. Selene's brown eyes met Amelia's, asking for help. The Elder then realized Markus was moving his mouth to gather the stream of blood that dripped from Selene's wrist, and mouthed a quick 'No' before pushing the gun over the boards and jumping down. Selene caught the gun in midair and took aim at Markus' head quickly, pulling the trigger repeatedly. Amelia lunged from where she had landed next to Michael, and sank the blade of the knife as far as it would go into Markus' wing joint.

Markus screeched and let go of Selene, immediately spreading his wings and flying back, Amelia clinging to his back almost desperately. He stopped flapping his wings and both sank into the dark, cold water. Amelia didn't let go of the knife, although Markus very obviously didn't want her to hang on.

There was a moment when she had absolutely no spatial perception; she was lost in the shades of black and blue of the water. She knew nothing but the feel of her hand against the handle of the knife, lost among the constant movement. Her other hand searched for a hold but found only slippery skin. Finally, she pulled the knife out of Markus' shoulder and tried to swim to the surface again; after about a minute, her lungs were burning with the desire to breathe.

Her head had barely broken out of the water's cold embrace and she had taken a deep breath before her foot was grabbed again. She was pulled down again, and struggled to break free of Markus' tight grasp. Soon, despite all her efforts, she was held tightly by his strong hands. His fingers dug into her shoulders, and she winced as his index finger pressed down on her wounds. He seemed to ignore this and took off flying, emerging from the water, and hovering in front of Selene for a while. The younger vampire was occupied trying to revive Michael, tearfully banging her fist against his chest in hopes that he would react in any way.

Amelia kicked and punched wherever she found the opportunity to, but it wasn't nearly enough to break free from Markus. She groaned, and Selene looked up and just met Amelia's pleading gaze with her own before turning back to Michael. Amelia struggled some more, and barely managed to see the first tears fall from Selene's eyes before she was dragged upwards, out of the small square of wood and water.


	6. The Private Sphere

AN: Yet another chapter is up, and we have another three to go :D I hope you have all enjoyed the fic so far and I want to thank the reviewers for their feedback, I hope to read more of you!

Celtic Aurora, you know you rock :D

6. THE PRIVATE SPHERE

"What are you doing?" came the question from the very enraged female Elder, whose movement was limited because of first, the tight grasp his hands had on her shoulders and second, the 300-or-so feet that separated her from the ground and that made the difference between a rather unpleasant landing and going splat against the ground.

"Shit," she whispered, the word sounding harsher because of her faded Hungarian accent. She squinted as she once again looked out into the sky, which was turning lighter behind them. "Markus…" she called, to no avail. "Markus! Don't do this to me. I'll burn to death here! Where are you taking me?" Her voice was turning panicked now that she could feel her skin tingle with the promise of the breaking dawn.

He ignored her pleas and kept flying in the direction of the port town. He reached the inn and slipped into his room—top floor, he went in through the window—and had no trouble flinging her to the wall, with which she collided head first with a loud ruckus. The dazed Elder couldn't then fight back when she was unceremoniously dragged down several flights of stairs and finally thrown again, this time into a room with a thick steel door. She got to her feet quickly, only to have that same door slammed shut in her face. Without further explanation, he left. Soon after, Amelia could hear the faint flapping of wings from outside.

She paced around the room at first, quickly coming to the conclusion that she was in the basement of the inn. There were no guests, no innkeepers, but she assumed they had died by the hands of the Hybrid a little while ago; if she focused on it she thought she could even smell their blood. She sighed at the loss of such good sustenance, and just then realized she was hungry. The pacing gave way to sitting in the corner of the room, next to the comforting heat of the boiler. This then turned into an anxious waiting, and she resumed the pacing. Whatever Markus wanted of her was obviously less important than speaking to his father. But what would he tell the warlord? Or was it just a psychological attack on her?

With a sigh, Amelia flopped down on the floor again and waited, a hand unconsciously going to her wounded shoulder. Markus' grasp had only aggravated the injuries, and judging by recent interactions, any sympathy he could have for her was gone, thus proving the solution provided by Alexander impossible. She wouldn't get Markus' blood, Michael was injured and possibly dead which put his out of the question as well, and if the noises on the upper floors were anything to go by, so was Alexander's. Amelia hid her head in her hands, preparing herself for the inevitable confrontation with Markus, whose steps could now be heard echoing calmly off the stairwell walls. With a sigh, Amelia looked up. This would probably be an encore of every time both of them had met after William's imprisonment. Markus refused to meet with her unless it was absolutely necessary.

She had come to terms with it already, the actions were simple: Perform the ceremony and give Markus the blood memory that would lead him into the new society. Wait a week or so until he was restored properly of the deathlike state. Rant under his dark glare over what he would need to know to rule during the century. Go into slumber.

That was it. No chat, no heartfelt reunion… There wasn't even a hint of sympathy in his gaze as he tore into her wrist and sucked her blood until her heart slowed enough that she slipped into slumber.

The steps slowed to a halt in front of the heavy metal door Amelia sat across of. She stood up quickly as the lock on the outside bolted open, and with a small exhale she let her eyes turn bright green, which she knew would prove futile against the icy glare of the first Vampire, but managed to remind him constantly that she was not under his control.

As soon as the door was opened wide enough, he took a step inside and closed it again, leaving them in the darkness which just highlighted her poisonous gaze. She walked towards him, taking advantage of her supernatural speed to approach in a flash and slap him hard across the cheek. His head turned with the force of the impact and she noticed his eyes change color as well, shining among the blackness. She repeated the gesture, but he caught her wrist in the air and hissed at her. She snarled, pulling her hand out of his grasp.

Her skin tingled, and her snarl disappeared entirely. That was it. The sun had risen, and she was trapped inside a tiny basement with the psychopath who had flown her off to who knew where and had then gone back to kill his own father. Her intention wasn't to anger him anymore, though the slap seemed to have managed to do just that. She took a few steps away, fearing a large reaction even though she knew he wouldn't kill her. If that was his intention, why had he waited this long?

His scent froze her, for she suddenly recognized the smell of Corvinus as it mingled with the one of blood, and she knew the man in front of her, the man she had loved so many centuries ago, one of the few she trusted… He had killed his own father. Closing her eyes briefly she cursed mentally; he would have no problem at all to kill her as well.

She was distracted by a flash of green from her left, and she turned to find her face reflected off a large piece of glass, leaning against the wall. Seeing her unusual expression—pleading eyes on a stony face, yet a faint trembling of her lower lip—she resolved to take a deep breath and not show him her fear, quickly lowering her lids so the expression appeared more comfortable, and setting her jaw to stop the shaking.

"Markus," she greeted lamely, lost as to what to do.

"Tell me," he mocked in a sharp tone, taking a step away from the door, "are your new accommodations fitting for whatever status you believe you possess?"

She sighed, annoyed at his constant hatred, "What are you doing?" she questioned, trying to make him see reason, "Why am I here?"

"You, Princess," he started in his gruff voice, now a quiet monotone, "are here because I still need you. As to my actions, I'm doing as I please, for the first time in almost a millennium. Viktor's reign of terror is finally over, and I can now free my brother of the prison you," he spat in contempt, "put him into."

"Does your memory fail you, or are you too shortsighted to realize the selfishness of your intentions?" Amelia snapped back, "You remember the reason you needed an army in the first place, no? You can educate your brother about as easily as you can teach a bear to stand on its head and do cartwheels."

"A sharp tongue will do you no good with me; I have experienced firsthand the effects of the venom dripping from it," he snarled and moved closer.

Amelia moved back and ignored his comment, "What do you need me for?"

"The blood of Viktor's useless pet was only good to find the prison, but not the coffin within the ruins of the fortress."

"I'm the rest," Amelia realized, "you need my blood." She shuffled backwards and noticed with setting dread that there was no way to escape the tiny room, since he was still blocking the way to the door. To make matters worse, as she took one last step away her back found the smooth wall.

"Your betrayal has turned against you," Markus remarked, "and it will be your undoing."

"No," she whispered as he came closer and raised a hand to her neck, unzipping her jacket. Her hand came up to stop his, but a quick yank freed him of her grasp. Her breathing quickened, and she started to concentrate on clouding the parts of her memory she didn't want him to see. She gasped as his fangs sank with unnecessary harshness into her neck, and halfheartedly attempted to discourage him, struggling to pull away. She heard him swallow the first gulp, and then he drew back and spat her blood out, glaring. His hand wrapped around her windpipe and squeezed, pushing her against the wall. As she gasped for breath, he started to speak again.

"Hiding the memories will do you no good," he turned into his Hybrid form, clutching harder at her throat, "I'll just keep drinking until you are no longer able to keep the illusion," he threatened, knowing that eventually she would be too weak from the loss of blood to focus on masking the recollections.

She gasped and slowly inched her hand closer to the pieces of glass, and then she violently shoved his hand away as she pushed the transparent squares to the floor. The sound of the panes breaking made her sigh in relief, and she quickly took a medium-sized shard in her hand and started slashing at the Hybrid. He moved back, but at the same time expanded his wings, then folded them into spikes and used them to block her attacks, pushing her back against the wall. She stepped to the side and made one last desperate attempt to run away, but he was faster and drove his folded wings through her retreating back, pulling her back and slamming her against the wall. The spikes were removed from her back only to impale her arms against the wall. Amelia groaned and panted, but trying to free herself was useless. Her legs pushed at his torso, but to no avail, as he was eventually able to sink his fangs into her neck.

She hissed at the violence with which he tore at her skin, but that feeling of discomfort was soon pushed to the back of her head as a wave of fresh pain started slowly carving its way through her veins, much like acid. It had spread from her shoulder, but was now equally distributed throughout her whole body. She clenched her teeth against it, and found it impossible to concentrate to cloud her memories so Markus wouldn't see them. She didn't notice his grin against her neck, and felt all her muscles tense against the sting. She felt sick; the sensation was akin to having white-hot molten metal poured down on her skin, and so raw it was nauseating. Her screams echoed in the small basement, but she couldn't hear them, lost as she was in her dimension of hurt.

Markus took another gulp. He recognized the seventeen hundreds; it wasn't what he wanted. The next wash of her blood against his tongue held the taste of ancient times. Curious, he looked into the memories and finally found what he was looking for: The night William had been imprisoned.

He drew his fangs back and looked at Amelia's closing eyes. "Shut up," he spat at the whimpering woman, "I can hardly think with you screeching like…"

He cut short as the memories came, flooding his brain with her life. There she was, clad in armor as soldiers marched all around her, nursing the wound Viktor had inflicted in order to assure her help in William's capture. Injuring the werewolf would be necessary, and thus she would be going against Markus' wishes. Viktor, though, had found a way to make his plans true, since he had promised not to harm William, but Amelia had not. Grimly, she marched on, coming to a halt next to the other two Elders at the front of the army.

Markus observed Amelia's unconscious form guiltily. He had believed her only after seeing the injury, but she had betrayed him once more…

Viktor appeared in her memories again, trying to coax her into voting in favor of the chain. Her reasons against such a rule were purely sentimental, he said. She shook her head and replied his newest idea was his way to grieve for the daughter he had killed.

Markus smirked, engrossed in the memories, feeling proud of Amelia. But then, why had she voted in favor of the chain in the end and abandoned him so cruelly?

She crossed her arms at Viktor and waited for a reply. He reminded her of the last time she had thought it wise to oppose him, and she countered that such an action would be futile. He snarled and snapped back at her. If she'd rather see her beloved Markus whisked away to be tortured and imprisoned like his twin, she was welcome to continue with her stubbornness.

Markus looked away, repulsed at himself for having replied to her pleas of forgiveness the way he had. He felt guilty for turning his back on her, and for refusing to believe her for more than seven centuries. Wincing in sympathy, He quickly tugged his folded wing out of her right wrist, and wrapped an arm around her waist before pulling his other limb from her forearm. Quickly after that, he changed into his human form. He examined the wounds he'd made, watching blood bubble slowly from them, and licked them so they would heal faster, like the puncture wounds on mortals' necks did when he licked them. He hooked his free arm under her knees and lifted her off the ground, clutching her harder against his chest when he realized she was still breathing raggedly.

He felt horrible for having caused her so much pain over the years, and even worse for not believing her when she had apologized. He didn't blame her for hiding the truth, as he would have turned on Viktor immediately, and caused a war to break among them when it was the last thing they needed. He smiled softly; Amelia had always been the smartest of the Elders, and that was more than enough to make up for her flaws.

He couldn't get out of the basement because of the incandescent sun in the rest of the building; his Hybrid form was still vulnerable to its rays. Instead he swept the glass from a corner of the room and sat down, still holding Amelia in his arms and going through her memories in his mind. He was tired, but his curiosity at Amelia's stubbornness to conceal the truth from him got the best of him and he resolved to waiting anxiously for her to wake up. He was getting concerned, though, for she still hadn't relaxed and her breathing was quick. She was unconscious, but even then in pain. He hadn't drunk that much blood, had he?

As if in a dream, he went through her whole life in his head, recalling fondly the times after Viktor had been consumed by power and was no longer her ally; those many years centuries ago that it had been the two of them against Viktor and his malicious schemes. Most of all, though, he remembered the time that was only theirs, when they were two immortals with an eternity to spend together. After Viktor's first reign alone, though, they had grown apart because he thought she had betrayed them and she had been too occupied trying to mend the chaos Viktor had left in his wake.

She started to twist in his arms somewhat violently, and he looked down at her and tried to shake her awake. A bad idea, he found out, for when his hand came in contact with her shoulder he could feel the blood on her blouse, and her other hand came up instinctively to clutch at his. He pulled away and took her hand off her shoulder, holding her down as she struggled against him, still not awake.

Finally she lay limp in his arms again, and Markus searched her face, but saw no sigh that she was waking up. She exhaled and her eyes opened just a bit, showing him bright green orbs.

He hadn't hurt her shoulder, but it was that which seemed to be causing her pain, and so he searched her memories again, looking to find the cause of her recent injury. When he saw the Lycans attack the train, he clenched his teeth in anger at Soren's worthlessness, but his rage was directed at the Lycan who had bitten Amelia, and at Kraven's betrayal. He had enough understanding of himself to realize it had only been his blood that had allowed the two viruses to coexist in peace, and he was well aware of what would happen to Amelia if she didn't someway still the battle in her veins. He had killed Michael and Alexander, so the obvious remaining choice with the original Corvinus blood was him.

His wrist came up to his face, and he bit down on it with elongated fangs before opening Amelia's mouth and letting the drops of blood fall on her tongue. Markus hoped his blood combined with his father's would be enough to turn her. Sealing her fate, she swallowed and instinctively lifted her head to put her mouth to the wound and suck.

-oOo-

When Amelia stirred and opened her eyes to find herself in Markus' embrace, her first instinct was to push away and sit up to observe him carefully.

"I saw your memories," Markus offered as an explanation, which only earned him a cautious glare. He amended, "I know the truth. I should have believed you, it was not your intention for things to go this way."

She sighed. "And you expect me to suddenly trust you? After all you've done lately?"

"No," was the honest answer, even though his eyes were begging her to, "but I sincerely hope you do, because I can't spend another minute hating you."

"I'm happy," she huffed sarcastically, hurting him with her words. Not minding this, she rolled up the sleeves of her blouse to check on the holes in her arms.

"I was an idiot to blame you, but I care too much about you to let you die." He replied. As stubborn as she was, the only way to make her see reason was to show her that he was willing to forget the last centuries and start over. He had to show her that he still trusted her blindly. "Check your shoulder," was the response to her confused stare.

Frowning, she slid a hand over the fabric on her shoulder, noting that, surprisingly, it didn't hurt when she ran her fingers over the wounds. She poked at the slashes and did a double take when she only felt skin. Peeling back the blouse and the bandages, she was able to see the wounds had finally scarred, leaving pale lines that streaked her skin. Her eyes widened, for then that meant…

"Why did you give me your blood?" she asked him quietly, looking at the floor shyly when she realized that meant he had never intended to kill her, even though she was not going to allow him to release his brother.

"I'd rather trust you with it than witness what would happen to you without it," he replied, "regardless of what you do afterwards."

She blinked a couple times and then replied, "…thank you."

Markus nodded. "Night is falling. Let's go to one of the rooms upstairs." He got up and opened the door. Taking one last look at the glass shards strewn across the floor, Amelia followed.

Markus opened a door on the second floor and stepped inside. Amelia stayed out, not knowing whether they would come across one of Markus' victims and wanting a break of the near-constant bloodshed.

"It was empty," Markus said, and she joined him inside. The bed she sat down on was comfortable, and she ran a hand over the purple throw before meeting Markus' gaze as he sat down in front of her.

"Viktor is gone," he stated unnecessarily, letting his gaze examine the room before directing it at Amelia again, "there was nothing to stop you from revealing the truth."

"And what good would that have been?" Amelia asked sadly," if anything, it delayed the inevitable." She tore her eyes away from his and stressed, "I won't let you free William."

"I know. But still I plan to grant him the freedom that was taken from him eight centuries ago. I should have rebelled against Viktor sooner and not suffered the imprisonment with him." He felt horrible for having ruled, slumbered and lived in wealth and pleasure while William agonized in his coffin-prison.

"What will you do with me?" She was oddly calm, even in the presence of one that woke such a strange mix of emotions within her. There was trust, there was love, but there was also disappointment and remorse, colliding one after the other against the barrier of ice she'd encased her heart in.

"You are free to do as you please. I have the map and the keys… Whether or not you follow me and try to stop me is your choice."

She observed him for a while, taking notice of his passive attitude towards her, and also of his lost expression. Her eyes came to rest on the naked feet, the purple burial skirt, made of coarse fabric, and then to his exposed torso, dirty face and matted hair. Sighing, she got up.

"Come with me," she beckoned and slowly made her way to the door of the room. "I need blood, and you, a decent attire."


	7. The Mirror Would Reflect Insanity

AN: Thanks again for the patience, thanks to Celtic Aurora for the corrections and advice, and I hope you enjoy! Please review!

7. THE MIRROR WOULD REFLECT INSANITY

The moment the two remaining Elders entered the Death Dealer safehouse was not exactly the most comfortable one. Not a word had been said the whole way there from the port, although there was much to be discussed. Markus had removed a golden broach from his robe and was fidgeting with it, while Amelia searched around for the refrigerator in which the blood was stored.

"It still escapes me why you refused to hunt," Markus commented hesitantly as she handed him a blood package.

"I have stayed true to my word. When I signed I would drink from no human, I meant it," she said, referring to a contract the three Elders had signed long, long ago.

"How noble," he half-mocked. Cloned blood didn't taste like

normal, warm liquid, and now he was wondering if he should leave and get himself a decent meal. However, when Amelia bit into the plastic bag in her hand, he mimicked the action without another comment.

She waved Markus closer and headed to the room of the safehouse, where she pointed to the dresser and tiny closet. "Change," she commanded with a knowing half-smile, "The ceremonial robe was not made to be comfortable."

She returned to the main room and waited, questioning her own motives for leading Markus into a safehouse. She drank a second blood bag, all the while trying to remind herself that the man in the next room had hurt her just hours ago, and that he was only being kind due to guilt. As she tried to convince her stubborn conscience to stop being so annoyingly ambivalent towards Markus, she searched for a knife of decent length. Her close-combat abilities were mediocre at best, and she still had to grow used to a gun, which would normally call for a blade of some sort, but the more she thought about it the more she realized she should have taken her father's broken weapon with her because she wouldn't come across a sword easily now. She turned a corner, her eyes scanning the hall swiftly, and froze; she was staring directly into the sharp-toothed maw of a transformed Lycan. Her first reaction was to take a step back and inhale to scream in terror, still shaken from the last encounter she'd had with William's breed, but her terror only intensified as, instead of a scream, something akin to a howl ripped through her throat. She exhaled unsteadily and stared at the dead wolf for a while before letting out a surprised gasp as the sound reverberated off the walls of the enclosed hall.

She took a couple hesitant steps back, not wanting to turn her back on the beast, but then fear won over logic and she ran back where she had come from.

Scrambling back to the room, she ignored Markus as he finished donning a coat, and inspected her reflection with a grimace of distaste etched across her features. The image in the mirror stared back with pale green eyes, but the places where her eyes should be white were jet black.

She had to remind herself several times that she was a Vampire before her eyes changed back to their usual color, and had to breathe deeply to finally regain the power of speech and make her teeth change to fangs, but when this all was accomplished, she turned to Markus with clenched fists and hissed, "You turned me into a monster."

"You would have died," he retorted calmly, "I didn't want that, so yes, I turned you. But this is not disfiguration, it's evolution."

"I didn't consent to this," she said, "I'm a Vampire, and an Elder; I would have endured the endless onslaught of the Lycan poison before ever agreeing to turn into one," she nearly screeched, "I'm Vampire royalty, I can't be half Lycan!"

"And again, you are deceiving yourself," Markus snapped back, taking a step closer, "Without my blood, you would be dead already. We have seen it too many times, and to deny the truth borders on idiocy."

"And you saved me with what purpose?" Her high-pitched tone revealed her fear as she blamed him for the silent treatment he had hung over her during the eight centuries he held a grudge, "What do you care if I die?"

"Enough of your foolishness," he snapped, "You obviously don't trust me, but you must understand what lies behind my actions." He reached into his pocket and produced the golden broach. He pulled at the piece in the back and it came apart easily, revealing a small crystal pendant, shaped like a drop. Her eyes widened at the sight, and she had to react quickly to catch it since he had thrown it in her direction.

"Do you remember this?" he asked with a frown, his voice reflecting sadness but also anger. "I have kept it safe since the last time you wore it. I made sure you were protected every second I wasn't there. That's how much I care."

Amelia sat down on one of the bunks, stroking the pendant fondly. Of course she remembered it, she had awoken with the chain around her neck when the time had come for her to reign alone for the first time. The tiny engraved M at the top of it left no doubt it was from him. She would always drink the single drop of blood inside it and witness his memories as told by him and not Viktor. She could see life through Markus' eyes. Then she would always send the crystal drop to Tannis, only to have it reappear around her neck the next time Viktor woke her from her century-long slumber. She was overwhelmed by regret when she realized the truth behind his words: He hadn't left her alone to fend for herself, but had been present and keeping her safe, giving her subtle hints as to who to trust or who to keep by her side.

Even if Markus didn't say a word as she was put into hibernation, the blood had a language of its own, and had always screamed out at her while all she'd ever done was childishly cover her ears. She had shut him out, not the other way.

"Why are you like this?" she asked slowly, her anger at him vanishing rapidly, "How could you let me live under the impression that I'd lost you forever?"

"I couldn't forgive you," Markus replied quietly, "When you agreed to the chain, to leaving me for two centuries at a time, I couldn't forgive you. It doesn't mean I stopped loving you." Hesitantly, he reached out to stroke her cheek softly. She closed her eyes, touched at the gesture, and leaned her face into his hand.

Amelia opened her eyes and whispered almost to herself, "I'm a Hybrid," and then questioned loudly, "how are we supposed to lead Vampires if we are tainted with the blood of our enemies?"

"I don't know," he said, sitting down next to her and taking the pendant from her hands. Carefully, he uncapped it and pierced his thumb with his fangs. He concentrated a moment, arranging memories and thoughts until at last he nodded and let a single drop of his blood fall into the tiny container. When he handed it back to Amelia, it shone bright red under the rectangular lights. She gave him a suspicious look but eventually took the pendant again.

"Tannis," she said softly, "He knows the truth. Every cell of his blood has the history of the Covens branded in itself."

Markus nodded.

"He only needs to speak in front of the Vampires and it'll be known that all prejudices against the Lycans and the very beginning of the war can be traced back to Viktor. Then maybe we can find a solution." She looked at Markus, who glanced down at the floor.

"Tannis is dead." The sentence hung in the air for a while until Amelia got up quickly, standing in front of Markus, who still had his gaze glued to his boots.

"And Alexander?" Amelia questioned, her voice taking on a dangerous edge when she realized exactly what had happened to the Historian.

He nodded and she hissed menacingly, her eyes turning green. "Idiot. Blast it, he was the only way to prove the truth." she turned around and started pacing the room. "Why?"

"Their existence was an obstacle to freeing William," Markus shrugged.

"What about the others?" she questioned, snarling as she pictured the ruins of the coven and the smell of burnt flesh. "The innocents of Ördögház?" she was giving him a chance to redeem himself, though by this point there was no argument that could condone the deaths.

He didn't look her in the eye, probably knowing what her reaction would be, as he said coldly, "Collateral damage. They were a bunch of useless aristocrats under the command of a madman. Kraven betrayed me, you, and Vik-" he didn't get to finish his sentence because Amelia slapped him mercilessly, her eyes hard.

"You speak of useless diplomats. Am I one of them?" Amelia glared at him, "is that the fate that awaits me?"

"Not you," he replied quickly, holding his hands up in a gesture of peace, "I need you by my side, to rule a new race."

Her snarl was fierce and her tone firm as she replied, "No. I won't serve the purposes of a lunatic." She tried to reason with him, "Do you really want to leave William's fate to the Washington Coven? They will kill him, and us, too, for being what Viktor would call abominations."

"I will free my brother, Amelia," he argued, "I can control him. And together, we will create the future."

"Then I will be there to stop you," she vowed, "Before you destroy us all."

The moon, half covered by the shade of the trees in the forest watched her leave the safehouse. She bounded from a branch to another in her search of Selene, the crystal drop now filled with Markus' blood and clutched tightly in her hand. Sighing again as she laid eyes on the disaster that was Pier 17, and regretting the death of two Immortals—one the first of them and the Historian, one of the few she truly trusted—she headed for the castle that was William's prison.

-oOo-

Amelia hadn't been far from the place; a two-hour run had gotten her there, which was the equivalent of driving for five hours. The destroyed fortress reached for the sky with its blackened walls, proof of the Vampires' failure in containing William. In an attempt at decency and honor, the Lycan had been locked inside the fortress, with a constant provision of food, and the company of his kin. And then there'd been a massive breakout, which had brought the land to a second era of Lycanthropy, and after which Viktor had commissioned the coffin-prison be built to contain William.

Across the wide river she watched the half-submerged island, with no idea how she was going to enter the decaying building at its center. The moon had all but vanished, and if she looked to the skies Amelia would see the blackness giving way to lighter shades of blue. There was still time to stop Markus before the sun rose, though, for which she was grateful.

She rounded the river, her mouth dry after her running there, and halted for a moment to reach inside her bag for a blood package. Her meal was cut short, though, for she heard the threatening flapping of wings. She cursed quietly, disposing of the half-finished plastic bag and hiding among the bush, crouching expectantly.

After the winged Elder had disappeared inside the crumbling brick walls, she looked even more diligently for an entrance, trying to remember where the door had been placed. She couldn't allow William to be freed, regardless of Markus' wishes. Risking a public scandal without Alexander's protection was something she didn't plan to let happen, and much less did she want the aristocrats in Washington dealing with it.

Her worry didn't last long, though, and with a smile she welcomed the roar of a nearing helicopter. After all, why would a helicopter approach a torn building in the middle of nowhere? At the sight of a leaping person her smile widened, and without hesitation Amelia dove into the river and rushed to meet the entire team that was now following Selene into a submerged passage.

-oOo-

"My Lady?" Amelia had emerged from the water, and was now wringing her hair dry. Selene hadn't expected to find her there, not after Markus had taken her away. Amelia turned to look at the team, the leader of which she recognized as Drew, one of Corvinus' men. Michael, though, was missing, and she cast her eyes down at the sight of Selene's thinly veiled sorrow. With the Hybrid dead, their chances of survival dropped dramatically.

"We must make haste," she told Selene, disposing of the drenched leather jacket for practicality's sake, "Markus landed here a few minutes ago."

Selene nodded and followed the Elder's sure steps, which would lead to the confinement chamber where William's prison lay. The structure was holding out, even though it was almost five hundred years old, but the entire ceiling portion was missing, and what little light filtered through was casting an eerie bluish glow on the water and slimy walls.

"Amelia, what happened?" asked Selene as she followed Amelia, occasionally assaulted by the memories of a past she hardly remembered.

Amelia sighed, but she knew the question needed an answer; after all, Selene had no way of knowing why or how she'd been taken away. "Fool that he is, Markus murdered Tannis and Alexander without a thought as to the consequences; he had no way to find out where inside this maze his brother is. I know where Viktor hid him. He needed my blood." The words were uttered quietly, indifferently, but her hand clenched around the crystal pendant hung around her neck all the same. Lacking the time and the money to buy a chain, she had had to thread a shoelace through the pendant. That didn't keep her from wearing it around her neck, and it would from now on be a personal reminder that however deep the truth was hidden, it would always find a way to resurface.

"And now?" the Death Dealer aimed her semiautomatic rifle to the front, her eyes shifty and scanning the semi obscured passages cautiously. Her question didn't need a response, for the sound of stones grinding together echoed off the humid walls just then. While Selene took a couple steps closer to the passage the sound was coming from, Amelia looked back at Drew and nodded, "Get ready."

The team then organized, two men staying by the entrance of the channel, and four more lifting guns and following Selene, disappearing in the shadows, the tunnel swallowing them up like the mouth of a fearsome beast. Amelia trailed behind, dread setting in her heart when the hammer of a gun was pulled back. She swallowed; Markus would be killed and she couldn't and wouldn't do anything about it.

Even within the darkness and with the sound of the water they treaded, Amelia could hear the distant growls, and was able to make out Markus' voice, "Be still, brother, it's me." She winced; sure that Selene had heard it as well. They had arrived too late. She could read determination in the cerulean eyes of the younger Vampire, and when they came to a dead end, with a huge slab of stone between them and the Corvinus twins, Amelia took a deep breath and let herself change, controlling every step to avoid any Lycan traits. Behind her eyelids, the blackness in her irises receded and gave way to the usual bright green. Her clenched fists hid the pointy claws from sight until they were fingernails once more, and as she exhaled she felt her fangs, and not jagged teeth. Satisfied, she turned around and spoke.

"You may shoot, attack and otherwise harm Markus, but he is mine to kill," five faces nodded, all confused. There was no hallway branching off from the one they currently stood in. However, the Elder crouched in front of the wall and managed to move the slab about an inch, which allowed her to move a small stone with her foot, and leave it holding the door away from the floor.

"Help me," together with Corvinus' men, the Vampires were able to lift the stone and go past it before letting it fall back down into place. What they saw, although they already knew it, was discouraging: The metal coffin had been opened, and there was no alpha werewolf inside. Selene kneeled to pick up the haphazardly dropped key, and used it to make the stone door in the next hallway open. As they advanced, noises could be heard from the following room.

Amelia was the first to emerge from the tunnel and set foot on the wide open space that was the center area of the fortress. She went to stand in the middle of the wooden bridge that crossed the space, and glanced down to meet the eyes of a very angry werewolf. Its white pelt was wet around its feet, and was splashed with blood after it growled and the first bullets collided with the beast. Hissing, Amelia jumped down and lunged at William, followed by Selene. However, even before the next wave of bullets came, she was pulled back and thrown against the wall by a transformed Markus.

Drew was the first to be killed by William. After that, two more members of the team joined their leader. Selene had already let go of the gun; since all it had was Ultraviolet ammunition, it was almost useless against the Lycan. Now she was trying to attack William directly with a hunting knife. That wasn't proving all too successful either, since the two men who had stayed behind arrived suddenly, led by the sounds of a scuffle, and started firing, which meant she had to step back and let them take aim freely. After that, she was able to get closer and slice at the Lycan's exposed stomach, but the cut was pretty much superficial and the swipe of a claw left her bleeding from the shoulder and scrambling to her feet as William leaped up, clung to the wall with his claws, and then jumped again to land on the bridge where the only two living members of Corvinus' team were.

Amelia defended Markus' kick and turned around quickly to come to see Selene was alone now, the humans lying dead around her. She wanted to yell at her to dismember the corpses before they turned because of William's virus, which was not tied to the full moon. However, Markus chose that moment to slash at her face and she had to step back and press the sleeve of her blouse to the cuts as she pulled out a long knife.

"I don't want to kill you," she told Markus, trying to talk some sense into him.

Markus ignored her, catching her wrist as she tried to slash at him and using his knee to dislocate her elbow with a well-placed hit. She hissed and clutched at her arm, her hand still holding the knife weakly.

Her foot collided with a corpse, and while her elbow healed she reached for the human's gun and pointed it up at Markus. He stopped in his tracks and she fired a single round, which embedded itself in his shoulder. He groaned as the ultraviolet light spread through his veins, making his movement the tiniest bit more sluggish, but didn't burn him from the inside out like the unlucky Vampire in Selene's memories. The Lycan virus regenerated his skin around the empty glass casing, but the shards pierced his skin again when Amelia landed a roundhouse kick.

Selene saw movement out of the corner of her eye and stepped aside to avoid the ram of a newly turned Lycan, one of the humans that had been bitten. She placed her hands on its head and jerked it quickly to the side, effectively killing the werewolf, but by then three other men had transformed. She tried to get rid of them quickly, but when all of the beasts attacked at the same time, she barely avoided the claws and teeth and watched William scurry away to help Markus.

Amelia bounded up to the bridge when William loomed closer, taking care to avoid the beastly Lycans. Her breath came quickly in puffs of air that froze in front of her mouth, and it was dreadfully and with heavy limbs that she shuffled backwards to put some distance between her and the climbing werewolf. Her back only a few feet from the wall now, she looked up apprehensively and jumped again, managing to grab on to the wooden plank of a higher bridge. Before she could pull herself up, though, she felt something speed by her back and was only reminded of Markus' wings now that he was hovering over her, with William climbing on one side of the bridge and her elbow grazing the cold rock wall on the other.


	8. The Future Is As Certain

AN: Sorry for the long wait, stress levels have been unbearable lately and so I had to, as many times before, take a break from fanfic. This chapter is unbetaed.

8. THE FUTURE IS AS CERTAIN AS LIFE WILL COME TO AN END

The helicopter hovered above the open center room of the wrecked castle, its occupants monitoring the battle closely, but with no clue as to how to lend a hand with the current situation.

Selene cringed at the sound of claws dragging against stone, turning back towards her opponent to quickly twist its head and return her attention to the fighting Elders, two of the Vampire line, and one of the Lycan one. She had to look back down, though, for there were two other Lycans to dispose of.

Amelia panted, her eyes looking frantically up to see what she would grab onto next, and then darting back to look behind her, which gave her barely enough time to react to William's claws reaching for her ankle. She managed to hold on to the slippery rock wall she was climbing, while avoiding the Lycan's attack, but then she pressed on upwards, for William was only half of her problem. Letting go of the wall with one hand to avoid a punch that would have surely shattered her ribs to pieces, she regretted over the fact that the Lycan and Hybrid were _twins_, giving the wordplay 'double trouble' a more profound meaning. Groaning, she kicked out in the direction of the werewolf's head, earning a whimper that made a smirk adorn her features, although the sight of the wing she had just avoided embedded in the stone, mere inches from her nose, had that same smile turning into a snarl again.

"Selene!" she called, avoiding teeth and claws again, and using the wall as an aid to shoot backwards, falling freely back into the murky water, and hoping that the Death Dealer was in a better situation than she was.

Selene risked a glance at the Elder, and very nearly lost her nose for that mistake. Reacting quickly, she kicked the Lycan, making it fly backwards, and readied her gun, firing a few shots at the beast to slow it down. The rest of her UV rounds were aimed at Markus, and with extraordinary precision at that, one catching him on the shoulder, two more on his legs, and the remaining two lodging themselves between his ribs. The Hybrid snarled and hissed menacingly, threatening to swoop down at her, and she retreated a few steps in fear. She didn't take into account, though, that the Lycan behind her was still alive, and had to turn around at the sound of a growl from its maw. When she heard the flapping of wings behind her, she imagined all was lost. She would die, unable to stop two monsters that were coming at her. She closed her eyes tightly in preparation for the impact, keeping the Lycan more or less restrained, and waited.

Something had landed in the water, and Selene dared creak open an eye to find out what had stopped Markus' advance. Her breath caught in her throat and relief flooded her eyes when she saw Markus half-submerged, and keeping him there, another Hybrid.

"Michael," she breathed out in surprise, a tear escaping her eye.

"Kill the Lycan," he commanded in a guttural voice after getting a picture of the circumstances.

Still relieved, Selene turned back to her victim to notice that, indeed, she still had the werewolf in a tight lock. The mistake was soon corrected as she pulled out a hunting knife and slit the beast's throat, letting the body crumble to her feet as she once again looked at Michael. Her look was one of fondness, relief and happiness, a deep contrast to her stance, the torn and bloodied state of her clothes, and the knife she still held in her hand.

Amelia hurried over to where Markus was starting to stir, the enraged werewolf at her heels, and gave Michael a look of acknowledgement before kneeling to sink her long knife into Markus' shoulder blade, hoping it would be enough to hold him down for a few moments more. William tried to ram her, but was stopped by Michael's shove, which landed him next to the broken stairs that led to the upper hallways. Quickly getting up, it leaped to the weakened wooden bridge again, Michael following him.

Amelia slowly came closer to Markus' still form and whispered, almost pleading, "I don't want to do it. Let it be."

His eyes rose to meet her teary gaze, "Let it be," she repeated, "because I refuse to end your life."

He struggled to get up, chuckling darkly as he stretched his wings and wincing as the knife slid out of his skin. The only evidence of his wounds was the darkening of his veins around the closing bullet holes. This was the only effect the Ultraviolet ammunition had had on his body, and while surely painful, the rounds were definitely not lethal.

"If you can't so much as harm me," he started in a confident voice, "how did you ever expect to stop me?"

Amelia's gaze darkened, and she used her heightened speed to come within a foot of his face in a millisecond. "Don't underestimate me," she hissed. "Just because I won't do it doesn't mean I can't." She stepped away from him, and then aimed a roundhouse kick at his head. Before it had even hit, though, he was already on the ground, thrashing in the dirty water. Unbalanced without something to stop the impulse, Amelia had to regain her ground before looking wide-eyed at Markus. She turned her head up to check on Michael and Selene, and finally understood. Well, not understood, rather remembered. William was writhing on the floor, snarling and snapping his jaws at Selene, trying to reach for the silver disks embedded in his flesh. Markus could feel his pain, in a twisted remake of the human's relatively harmless 'twin bond' which allowed him to connect emotionally to his brother. She had seen it happen several times already; whenever something was going on with William, Markus would suffer the consequences as well. It was part of the reason Markus was the worst tempered Elder, after all, William had spent centuries without food, and although Markus gorged himself on blood, it wasn't enough to vanquish the feeling of hunger pulling at his stomach.

Now, since William was suffering from his silver allergy, and Markus was now also vulnerable to it, there he was, squirming and twisting in pain while on the bridge, William started ripping the disks out of his skin. Markus' breathing calmed down slowly, and William growled as the twins got up. The werewolf snapped his jaws and lunged at Selene, who presented the most immediate threat, but his efforts were for nothing, since Michael was also there, and while Selene was a match for him, the Hybrid was much too powerful to deal with. Realizing his mistaken first impressions, William scrambled away and focused his attacks on Michael, ignoring Selene for the moment.

Amelia managed one step back as she watched Markus' hunched form. She was truly lost as to what to do with the angry Hybrid, and was starting to question her refusal to kill him in light of his recent increase in violence. Again his full height, Markus smirked when he saw that she was now unarmed, and started approaching slowly, almost teasing her for her vulnerability.

"Don't do it," she warned, but her fear sounded through her quivering tone, and did nothing to stop Markus.

He chuckled, and stretching his wings he asked, cooing mockingly, "Who's afraid of the big bad wolf? You?" His grin only widened when Amelia's jaw set, and she took another step back, painfully aware that there was little room to move before she was backed up against the slimy wall. She nodded, her lower lip quivering as she replied in a meek whisper, "Afraid of what you've become."

He snorted and folded his wings, which Amelia noticed with a narrowing gaze. She was not about to let her concern for him get in the way of her sense of self-preservation. When his spiked limb shot forward, she was ready to catch it in her hand even as she was forced backwards, her back meeting the cold stone hard. She hissed, showing elongated fangs and eyes an eerie green, but had to duck to avoid the swipe of Markus' other wing. She was afraid, yes, but it wouldn't stop her from protecting everyone else. If killing William to avoid exposure to the humans involved dealing with Markus, she wouldn't shy away from it. Thoughts of the Coven and of all the other Vampires kept her focus away from what she was doing, and it was so that she was finally able to push the Hybrid back, both hands on his limbs. Without letting go of Markus' wings, she planted a foot on his chest and shoved until she heard a pop, quickly followed by his screech of pain. She shot him a fleeting apologetic glance before being distracted by the echo of her actions on the Lycan above her. William had also felt the tearing of cartilage as if the injury was being inflicted on him, and was now roaring madly, kneeling as he followed Michael and Selene with a tired expression in his animal eyes.

The Werewolf's whimpers could be heard as Markus tried to move his ruined wings, wincing. Amelia ran her hands through her hair, getting a few stray strands off her face, but looked up, taking advantage of Markus' dazed state to monitor the situation with his twin.

When the wolf dropped to its knees, Selene smirked and jumped close quickly, stopping for a second to let William see her then bounding off again, only to land closer to him. The Lycan swiped at her with his claws, but although he carved a long gash from her shoulder to the inside of her elbow, she was now somewhere else, and distracted as he was, he missed Michael's lunge and was defenseless when the Hybrid wrestled him off the edge of the bridge. With a grunt, Michael landed on top of the beast, surrounded by murky water. Selene followed them down, and reached inside her boot, producing a hunting knife. She neared the wolf as Michael got up, standing still as William howled, his maw just inches away from her face. The Werewolf looked exhausted, and whimpered like a small cub the moment Selene sunk her knife to the hilt into his collarbone, and then jerked it to the side, leaving a gash from the wolf's neck to his shoulder. The action was met with a fierce growl, but William didn't move. Not wanting to waste any more time, Michael grabbed hold of the wolf's jaws, intending to deliver the final attack.

William whimpered, and crossed a glance with the Hybrid. In those eyes, Michael was for a moment able to see an almost human sense of resignation and, had he imagined it? Relief. Heavy lids closed over the dark orbs, but the Lycan kept still as Michael ripped the jaws apart in one quick, hopefully painless second. The body collapsed to the water.

Markus' screech, originally aimed at Amelia, broke off for a second before turning into a strangled shout "William!"

With no motivation to fight her now, he just glanced at her in a way that revealed the torment, sadness and sorrow he felt at the loss of his brother and softly, almost carefully, he waded through the water to get to the fallen Lycan. Amelia trailed behind, looking for some feeling of closure she believed could come only from seeing the Werewolf's dead carcass. Selene clutched at her healing arm, and Michael concerned himself with her wound, ignoring the pain from his heavily bruised torso.

Markus kneeled beside his brother's still form, but the hand he now held was no longer furry, and it had no claws. He watched silently as the last of the white fur that had defined William as the alpha receded and was replaced by skin. Amelia lowered her gaze in respect, leaving Markus to his grief, and instead chose to look back at Michael and Selene, who were staring in each other's eyes, apparently still marveled that they had survived the ordeal.

"Brother…" Markus whispered tearfully, and the voice made Amelia turn around quickly. The lack of roughness to his tone had already revealed what she would see: Markus was running his hands over William's injuries, but the head that shook at the sight of the gory mess that was the dead brother's head was not Hybrid. The red curls and beard that framed the sorrowful face were a reminder of what the butchered head on the ground had once looked like. The bare, strong back and arms were exactly like the ones Markus was crying over.

She watched him sitting there, whispering nonsensical exclamations, his hands always on his brother's body as if that would make the scene real. His expression changed quickly and in a flash, his wrist was on his mouth, jagged teeth biting down on it. Markus let the blood drip over William's severed head, and then held both pieces together, despair driving his trembling hands.

Amelia approached him and stopped the movement of his insistent limbs. "Stop," she pleaded, unable to see him break down like that, albeit she was still shaken by the unexpected turn of things.

Her caring gaze was met with a fierce glare, and Markus huffed as he broke free of her grasp, only for his hands to go back to William's corpse.

"He's dead," Amelia said softly, silently begging her words wouldn't send him on a rage. "You can't bring him back."

Alas, when Markus looked up, he was still in full Hybrid form, and already getting up to lunge at Michael, his brother's killer. The attack missed by millimeters and Michael took a fighting stance again, Markus in front of him, claws poised to strike. Wings extended to loom over Michael, Markus let out a menacing hiss, which Michael countered with a fierce growl.

"No…" Amelia whispered, standing a few meters behind and not liking the situation in the least. When Markus' wings started to form deadly spikes, she let out an exasperated huff and ran, taking advantage of her supernormal speed, testing the boundaries of her power. She came to a stand in front of Markus, and with only an apologetic gaze, thrust her fist through his chest, feeling bone break and cartilage rip, only stopping when her hand was near his heart, afraid to make that last move and kill Markus.

She exhaled, and felt blood gather in her mouth. As if in a daze, her eyes trailed down, until she could see both of Markus' limbs, one embedded in her stomach, and the other under her left collarbone. It hadn't been only Markus' bone and cartilage that had taken a blow. She gasped, feeling faint as she followed her arm to see it stuck to the wrist inside his ribcage, and sensing how his heart pumped blood to the rest of his body, hating the feel of the substance sliding down her arm.

From the side, Michael and Selene gaped at the scene, and after about ten seconds of careful thought, the Death dealer fisted her hands and prepared to attack.

When Amelia raised her face again, she had made a decision, and she stared into his electric blue eyes unflinchingly, lifting her free hand to halt Selene in her tracks.

"I said I'd handle him, leave us." She spoke, her eyes not once leaving his as she once again tasted iron, her blood coating her mouth in bright red. Hesitating and with worried glances in their direction, Selene and Michael disappeared in a side passage, leaving the two Elders entangled in a mess that could result in the death of at least one of them.

Markus' confusion was evident on his face, which sported the same barely-concealed wince as hers. He let his breath out in a hiss, and swallowed. Somewhat unnerved by her green gaze, he turned away, careful not to aggravate his injuries.

"This time, you will listen to me," Amelia spoke finally, twisting her head aside and leaning down a little to spit out the blood, now sickened by its taste. Her face was contorted in a grimace as she straightened up again. "William is dead, and it's better that way."

Frowning at her words, Markus drove his spikes deeper into her flesh, and she screamed at the pain, but managed to wrap her fingers closer to his beating heart and, realizing his disadvantage, he stopped moving. She took a few seconds to compose herself before continuing her speech, her head bent down and her breath rustling a few loose strands of ebony hair that had fallen in front of her face.

"He would have been hunted down." She looked back up at Markus, trying to drive the point across quickly, hating the throb and sting of her injuries. "He would have been locked up to be studied, tested, cut into."

The list seemed to have some impact on Markus, whose hitherto snarling mouth closed in a tight line.

"And that's only if he had been discovered by Vampires, humans would have hacked him to pieces without another thought, all for the sake of 'science'. Even if Alexander had been the first to find him, he would have probably locked William back up." Her voice was even through all that, and with some hesitation she laid a hand on his folded wing, wincing as the added weight pulled at the hole below her collarbone, but right now more concerned with comforting Markus as she felt he deserved.

He remained quiet, and so Amelia simply added, "Without having to worry about being discovered ever again, he's free for the first time in eight hundred years."

There was a long moment of silence in which Markus looked every possible way but at her, and she let him think in peace. When he hung his head, still quiet, she took a moment to assess her injuries and once more get rid of the blood that kept soaking her mouth in waves. Though quite painful, there was nothing lethal, and the blood that found its way down to the floor wasn't much.

She looked up again and was surprised to see Markus' human face, his red hair and beard, and his blue eyes without their eerie Vampire gleam in them. In fact, his eyes—they were pleading. His folded wings were still impaling her, but as long as he stayed still caused her no more pain, and the same must have been so for her hand in his chest.

"Go on," he said softly, in a whisper.

"With what?" she asked slowly, lost.

"Clench your fingers around my heart and rip it out of my body." His voice didn't falter, but he didn't dare look her in the eye as he asked her to kill him.

Her eyes widened. He couldn't possibly be asking her to do that. She opened her mouth to reply, but only gaped like a fish. When she could articulate again, the only thing that found its way out of her mouth was a strangled, "What?"

"Did you not hear? End it, end my life." He had an edge to his voice that told her he was not joking.

She swallowed, and her voice returned. She shook her head, "You can't be possibly asking me to choose whether or not you'll live." It was only an excuse; she had no real arguments because she had yet to wrap her head the idea of being the one to kill him.

"Why me?" she asked, her gaze fixed on her hand inside his chest cavity. It seemed almost surreal, the way he whispered to her, a plea evident in his eyes, and she got lost in the moment, forgetting the precarious situation they found themselves in.

"There is no face I would rather stare at as I leave this world," he said slowly, his eyes searching for hers. It hit her again, like a splash of ice-cold water. He wanted her to kill him.

Swallowing, Amelia shook her head. "I can't do it," she replied, "I won't, I'm sorry."

"Me too," he almost deadpanned. Slowly, his folded wings started twisting, widening the wounds, "I regret having to say this, but," his eyes never leaving hers, she was able to see his gaze harden as he pushed his limbs further into her, "That's not the choice you have."

Her breath quickened, and her mouth twisted into a wince as pain tore through her, but she still managed an outraged look directed at Markus.

"The sun will rise shortly," he said, looking up to see the sky, which was turning dangerously yellow now, "You can either kill me or die with me."

Green eyes welled with tears at the end of that sentence, and she started trying to get away from him, which was futile as long as her torso was still immobilized by his wings. With her free hand she reached for the one at her collarbone, intending to pull it out, still refusing to be the one to decide his fate, but one of his hands was enough to stop hers from moving. Silently, she cursed his wings. Whatever did he need another two limbs for?

Frustrated at the uselessness of her actions, she again resorted to begging. "Please don't do this," she said calmly, putting her negotiation abilities to use, "Would you really leave the Vampires without a leader?" she questioned, "Would you be responsible for my demise?"

To her surprise and dislike, he chuckled. "My dear Amelia, you forget that I know how your mind works." His grin angered her, but she stood still, staring at him wildly as she started to feel her skin prickle, alerting her of the sun's coming. "You value yourself too much," he continued, "The only question is how long you'll stand by and keep torturing yourself over the idea, but the truth is you've already chosen to save yourself."

She tried to reply, but instead she choked on the words and her face contorted into a grimace as tears carved parallel streaks down pale cheeks. With one last glance at the nearing sky, and feeling the hairs on her arms stand in fear, she took his heart in her hand.

"Go on," he prompted softly, "take my heart, you were the only one to ever have it."

The comment touched her, but she couldn't bear the thought to leave everything as it was to let chaos take over, and she refused to let the sun, her enemy since she had been turned, win over her. With a sigh that showed her fear and longing of him, she pulled Markus' heart out of his chest before she had another chance to think it over. He didn't scream, and contrary to her beliefs the only sound to leave him as he fell backwards and his limbs slid out of her flesh was a sigh.

When Amelia looked again, he was on the ground, with a gaping hole in his chest, and her hand was covered in gore. There was a wet smack as she let his heart fall. She couldn't focus on much else since her eyes were glued to his, toxic green meeting electric blue in a moment that lasted forever, but was too short. His irises were covered at the same time he whispered a choked "Thank you".

Her breath quickened and caught in her throat while she waited for something more, another reply, but the only sound to break the silence was her own panicked breath. She swallowed, lifted her bloody hand to eye level and watched it shake, her eyes focusing and unfocusing on her trembling fingers until her vision was too blurry with tears. Turning her back on the scene, slowly, as if in a haze, she headed away from the massacre she had caused, the prickling on her skin a more urgent warning than her blood sliding down towards the damp ground.

Leaning against one of the few dry walls of the fortress, she finally allowed herself a sigh, and she looked back at the scene just in time to watch the first rays of sun touch Markus' corpse. The moment his remains caught fire left her breathless, but after a long moment of staring, a scream finally forced its way out of her throat, and she reached a hand out as if to hold on to Markus, as if that would keep him from burning. Her scream only got louder when she felt the skin on her hand hurt, and she quickly retreated to the shadows, yelling still. She screamed for Markus, for William, for Tannis, for Alexander, for all the dead Vampires in Ördögház, even for herself. She screamed for her inability to withstand the sun, for her dead fellow Elders, for what she knew would be a tortuous return to her coven.

She turned her head back around, her eyes unable to withstand the painful glow of daylight for much longer, and despite her tear-stained cheeks and bloodstained clothes, Amelia, last remaining Elder, straightened her back and braced herself for the future.


	9. Epilogue

AN: Here you have it, the last chapter to close off this piece :D This is also unbetaed, but anyway leave me reviews and comments, they really do make my day and see you sometime soon for the next part!

9. EPILOGUE

She was quite relieved to finally step out of the taxi and onto the pavement driveway leading to the Washington Coven mansion. And yet, being here alone made her have to stop her eyes from turning green. How dare Selene and Michael abandon her at the airport? They had left, yes, but that wasn't all: She had no money but for a small amount in a decaying credit card they'd grabbed from the last death dealer safehouse they'd been in, which meant the amount left was barely anything. She'd depleted the card and been lucky enough to be able to afford the coach flight and taxi ride. _Never_ had she driven in a taxi before. And, adding to it the fact she'd had to move along with humans for the whole day, first the oversized man snoring on her left and the ever-sneezing, panicked woman on her right in the flight, then the taxi driver, who was far too curious for his own good… her stomach had been growling, in protest at being denied a decent meal the whole day. She could not do much longer without sustenance. The first rush of fresh air going through her lungs after the ride was precious. She hadn't even been able to ask him to lower the windows, for it was winter, and, even if she didn't feel the cold, he certainly did. She was more relaxed when she was out of the painfully yellow car, and handed the simple driver his pay with a smile on her face.

She had gone almost a week without any communication with János, and, at the thought of him, she smiled fondly. He had kept everything under control in her absence, of which she was proud. He could be as dumb as he wanted, just as well as he could behave and take command. A remarkable skill, really, and one she'd never understand. At first, she had been afraid he would just lock himself up in his room and let the other nobles handle the situation. He was, after all, as attached to her as she was to him, perhaps even more.

His trying to pry into her mind had been what had at first called her back to this world, and away from the clutches of eternal sleep. She was grateful. Since then, and through the next week, she had gone through a lot, including killing Marcus, his death just a few days behind Viktor's. Out of the three Elders, only she remained. This was a lonely existence, she knew, and yet she couldn't help but feeling abandonment. János was the only one who had stood by her side through everything for the past centuries, and she would go as far as to say he would stand by her in the future and until the day either of them died. She had longed to see him again many times this week, to somehow return to the normalcy she knew and loved, and even if that was now impossible, she still wanted to see him and remember.

She walked past the ornamented metal gate to the grounds, and over the driveway. The nearly full moon and brightly shining stars helped give the night a peaceful appearance, even though a few kilometers away from the mansion, New York City was brimming with life, even in the middle of the night. But here, in the Coven, life was lived at night. By now, it was likely that everyone was dancing, or lounging on elegant chairs or couches in the main hall.

Then, the door to the mansion opened, revealing a figure in an Armani suit, surrounded by three bodyguards, rushing to meet her. Amelia's mouth turned up slightly, in a gesture of amusement. She kept strolling, waiting for them to be close enough.

"My, I never thought I'd be missed! You didn't have to wait for-" She started, then stopped at János hugging her. She patted his back lightly, her arms, too, around him.

"I'm really glad you're back." He whispered, then broke the embrace and laced an arm through hers.

"Why? I was certain you would have happily taken over and were smoking inside. The political quarrels would have kept you entertained." She quipped. He quickly caught on and smiled.

"My lady, I would have quit smoking _and_ given away my guitar if that would have helped getting you here sooner to rescue me from the endless meetings I was submitted to."

Amelia laughed, knowing he wouldn't have done anything of the sort. "Perhaps, János, I will leave you at the noblemen's mercy again, if that will keep you away from your vices."

"No." His face expressed fear. "You wouldn't." Then he rolled his eyes. "Amelia do you have an idea how worried I was? I knew I should have gone with you on that trip, but you wouldn't have it."

"Oh, do relax, nothing happened." She tapped his shoulder, deciding not to mention the fact that she was not exactly the same Vampire she'd left as. She had no idea what Markus' blood would do to her, or if it would work to counteract the Lycan bite.

They entered the mansion, and, though it was very much the same, with the grand staircase leading to the upper floor in its middle, and the checkered marble floor clicking under their feet, Amelia had the sensation something was amiss. János led her wordlessly to her chambers, just next to his own, through halls framed by statues and portraits. As soon as they stepped through her dark oak door, she remembered.

"János?" She called. After a mumble from him, she continued. "Why haven't the Ziodex representatives arrived?" She turned so she was standing in front of him.

"Because I canceled your meeting." He shrugged.

"And, why do you delude yourself by thinking you have the right to do that?" Her hands went to her hips.

Another shrug. "I didn't wanna go. Besides, you were on your way."

She threw her head back. "You're impossible! I can't believe you would go to such extents to avoid your responsibilities! What's going to be your next excuse?" She was seething. Everything had been perfect, up to this… this mess. She had thought that, perhaps, János had changed his ways and committed to something, but no.

"I only asked you a favor! To keep things up while I was gone. Now, I'm fully aware I'm back, thank you, but just try to fit this in your head: We are no longer a part of Ördögház, and, before this last week, it was not in my plans to unite the covens again. Imagine what would have happened in the next two centuries, what with you running the coven and ignoring meetings and compromises as you please."

She was dressed as a human, to be able to get past Airport security, and she had taken the Red Eye home, then slept through the day in a hotel. The clothes were by far too inappropriate for a meeting of such importance, and she needed a shower. She took off her boots, sending them straight to the wastebasket. The floor was cold on her feet, but right now she gave the fact no importance. A hand went to her head and removed the accessories, letting it fall freely over her shoulders. Her eyes wandered to the clock standing on the corner.

"You are to call Ziodex and tell them we will meet tonight, in half an hour. If we're lucky, the representatives will get home before dawn. If not, have the maids prepare five guest rooms." She combed out her hair.

"Uh, my lady, what are you doing?" János watched her walk from one side of the room to the other, collecting an attire.

"Trying to fix the mess you made. Now go and do as you were told." She dismissed him, growling.

He stayed, commenting, "It's not necessary, you know? I called and rescheduled the meeting for tomorrow night. I may be lazy, Amelia, but I'm well aware we rely on Ziodex for sustenance. It's not in our best interest to get on their bad side." János commented, adding an "I'm not dumb." For good measure, walking over to the door, his shoes clicking on the floor. But before he could leave, as he intended, Amelia softly asked, "Why?"

He smiled softly, sadly. "I have missed you. You have no idea how much. And I was worried. Everything that happened to you, I could feel it on my own skin. I can't stand it, you have to tell me what went on." He said, anguished, and then sighed. "But I see it will have to be another time." His hand went to the doorknob. Oh, he was faking. This was not the first of such misunderstandings with Amelia, and he wanted to test how interested she herself was in this meeting. He could barely restrain his smirk when she asked him to wait, almost pleading. He turned to see her sit down on the couch and pat the place beside her.

"I guess there's really not a problem, if we postpone the ramblings of those scientists just one night, correct?" Her smile was back, tentatively testing his mood.

Her anger had vanished, and she was willing to talk to him and all but forget the coven, if just for tonight. And, as he sat down, she rested her head on his shoulder, and a hand went to hers, covering the pale scars that were hidden beneath her blouse but that she knew would need to be discussed soon.


	10. SEQUEL!

SEQUEL!

The sequel to this story will first appear on the release date for Underworld: Awakening. (1.20.12)

The story will be told by Amelia and will explain the political upheaval the creation of the Hybrids caused in the New World coven. It will also tell of the quarrels between Elders in the past and of how William's capture happened in the first place.

There's a poll on my profile about the two different ways the story could be written, so do me a favor and vote! :D


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